Resurrection
by The Layman
Summary: Atlas has created a miraculous new technology: the ability to bring people back from the dead. What ramifications will this have on the world, especially when the first person this is done to doesn't remember anything from before their death?
1. Destiny is reset

_For as long as she could remember, there was just darkness._

_...How long had she been engulfed in this darkness, a day? A week? 10 minutes? A hundred years?_

_It was impossible to tell, especially since there was nothing in this place but the endless dark and the knowledge that she was._

_And there truly was _nothing_ here; even the memories she had, once clear as crystal in her consciousness, were now nothing but vague impressions and disconnected images. A line going through an imperfect circle, the color yellow, sharpness, something flying towards her, and then...nothing. She did recall that she once felt strong emotions, feelings, desires...but in time, however long or short it was, those faded as well until they were only shadows of what they once were._

_She couldn't even remember her name anymore…_

_But then, when she thought that she might fade entirely...something happened; there was light._

_She'd almost forgotten what Light was…_

_It was a small light, almost imperceptible, yet in such total, complete darkness, it was like a beacon that drew her attention. There was an inherent attraction between her and the light, and it drew her towards it. As she traveled nearer, the light grew larger, little by little; soon it was like a candle, then a lamp, and eventually it grew so large that it was as though she was next to the literal sun that hung in the sky._

_Yet...unlike the sun, she could focus on it directly. Also unlike the sun, she could make out images beyond it. Barely, but they were definitely there. It looked...cold, shimmering, quiet...there was a familiarity attached to the images that she couldn't explain, yet she felt it was something that happened recently, like there was some tragedy attached to it as well…_

_There were also sounds coming from beyond the light, but they were too soft and muffled to make out clearly._

_Still, she wanted to get closer. These images were stirring something within her she'd very nearly forgotten: desire. She couldn't quite say what she desired, but she knew that it was tied to the images she now saw before her._

_Purely under her own willpower, she moved forward, touching the light and passing through it._

_Only once she was completely on the other side was she bombarded by a million different sensations all at once, threatening to overwhelm her before she even had a chance to experience _life_ again…_

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

"Vital signs are spiking-"

"Haven't even administered the cortical stimulation yet-"

"Shouldn't be possible…-"

"Try to get those vitals stabilized-!"

"It's finally happening…!"

The room was a cacophony of sudden activity; men and women rushing to and fro in light of this new development in the Project. Most of them were scientists, throwing around jargon terms as they flipped switches and rushed between the different work stations in an attempt to keep their charge from going critical.

Things were happening too fast; the approval to begin cortical stimulation on the muscles had only just come through, most of them weren't even connected to the computer system that would monitor them, and even then efforts to actively resurrect their charge wouldn't begin for at least another month – not until the body was in a healthy enough state to handle the process. There were still tests to run, forms to turn in, and the General wasn't even here right now; he'd _specifically_ requested to be present when they began the resurrection procedure!

"Tell me she's not going into cardiac arrest!" one of the scientists shouted, typing furiously on their Scroll to try and regulate the nutrient and medication feeds leading into the pod where their charge rested- Well...they weren't really "resting" anymore...but semantics aside, two of the drugs needed to be reduced if they didn't want their charge to expire.

Starting over from step 1 wasn't really an option here.

"Not yet," a dark skin man replied from across the room, bent over a holographic display that showed their charge's vital signs in a three-dimensional render of the subject; things outside of nominal readings were highlighted in red, which right now was most of the body. "Readings are holding, but only barely. She needs-"

"_I'll_ worry about what she needs!" the first scientist snapped, "You just tell me if anything changes." She brushed a lock of hair aside, tapping a few more commands out before calling to no one in particular "Has anyone goddamn sent for the general yet?!"

"Yes, Ma'am," one of the soldiers responded, a finger over the earpiece on his helmet, "He's currently on his way, ETA 1 minute!"

"Good!" She turned back to her Scroll; ...now the oxygen needed to be increased.

Not even a full minute later General James Ironwood burst into the room- Specialist Winter Schnee close on his heels like usual- and made a beeline straight for the resurrection pod in the middle of the room, placing his left hand next to the glass viewing window.

"...How is she?" he asked, his voice calm and measured; a stark contrast to the chaos swirling around him.

"She's _alive_," she woman said, handing the Scroll off to one of the other scientists and jogging over to the hologram display, "and I wish I could say it was thanks to _our_ doing but we're still a month away from even _attempting_ resurrection procedures, never mind that the approval for cortical stimuli just came in today, not to mention whether or not a month is even enough time for that treatment to properly-"

"_Dr. Nightengale!_" he barked, "There's no point in worrying about that now; just focus on keeping her alive."

"...Yes, General."

Before he could ask anything further, a hand slammed against the inside of the viewing glass once...twice...over and over again, and the glass began to get obscured by a bunch of tiny bubbles.

"She hyperventilating," the larger man stated, and began to shove the scientists aside, undoing the latches on the side of the pod, "Someone come help me get this open!"

"General!" Winter gasped, and put a hand on James' shoulder, "Shouldn't we let the doctors handle-?"

"Winter, she's scared; wouldn't you be in her position?" he said in an even voice, still dripping with every ounce of authority he commanded. Then his expression softened a bit. "After what she's been through, the last thing she probably wants right now is to be trapped in one of these things. Now come on, help me get it open."

The Specialist held his gaze for a moment...then let out a resigned sigh as she unlatched the opposite side of the pod, ready to lift the cover away when given the signal.

After a brief mental countdown, the General nodded to Winter, and the two of them lifted the lid free of the pod, exposing what was inside to air for the first time.

The pod's occupant shot upright, gasping for air as the suspension fluids dripped from their emaciated looking body; bones were still visible under the skin, so much so that one could count the individual vertebrae if they wanted. What flesh was on them was gaunt and lifeless- that was to be expected at this stage of things, but did little to lessen the impact of such a sight- and almost deathly pale. If one didn't know any better, you could easily mistake the thing that came out of the pod for a skeleton.

Thankfully, the other scientists had snapped out of their shock at this point and rushed over to the now opened pod, removing the figure from the pod and helping them to their feet.

"My god…!" Winder gasped again, taking a step back. "Is that…?"

"A miracle?" Ironwood supplied, "Yes, Winter, I'd say it is…!"

Now that they were out of the pod, it was easier to tell that the figure was female like the scientist referred to her as...barely, due to how emaciated the girl's body was. Even her hair, a vibrant shade of red, seemed lifeless and limp. (The suspension fluids dripping from her crimson locks didn't help the image either.)

"Sir!" Dr. Nightengale called from the holographic display, the red splotches on the body image slowly fading away, "...she's stabilizing…!"

"That's good." He stepped forward, letting some of his pomp and rigidity disappear. "Don't be afraid, you're completely safe here. My name is James Ironwood, I command the military forces of the Kingdom of Atlas. And allow me to be the first to say...welcome back." Then he held out his hand to her.

The girl looked up, her damp hair partially hiding her emerald green eyes, which appeared to have a hard time focusing on everything around them. They darted to and fro, never lingering one thing for longer than a few seconds. And her vision wasn't the only thing that was shaky; despite being held up by three other people, the girl's legs unable to support her already slight weight due to her having little muscle tone as best.

"Sir…," Winter came up behind the General, "...is this who I think it is…?"

"It is, Winter. Believe me, I'm just as astonished as you are about this." Then he spoke to the girl again, "Can you tell me your name, Miss?"

The girl focused on that General again, and this time held his gaze. Then she tried to speak, her vocalizations sounding too raspy to be normal speech. She tried a second time, much to the same results.

Ironwood sighed in disappointment.

"As is sure you can imagine, General, she needs rest," Dr. Nightengale said. However, the professionalism she exhibited so far during these unexpected events immediately disappeared after that statement, "I mean for God's sake, the girl just came back from the dead; people don't just do that and feel completely fine afterward! Not to mention that there's a million _new_ tests we'll need to run since this all happened ahead of schedule-"

"Yes, Doctor, I see your point." He then addressed the room at large. "See to it that this young woman receives the rest she needs to recover properly from this experience; you have my personal authorization to see that she receives the best comfort possible to achieve this, and be sure to notify me when she's able to speak properly."

And with that he turned and left the room, Winter following dutifully after him.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_Later, in Ironwood's office…_

"I sense you have something on your mind, Specialist Schnee," Ironwood said once he was seated at his desk again, the contents of his flask being added to a cup of coffee, "You have permission to speak freely."

"Thank you, Sir." Her posture didn't change much- that was just how the woman normally stood, very prim and proper- but knowing her for as long as he had he could pick up on how her shoulders relaxed and a touch of emotion made its way into her face. "To be perfectly frank, Sir...I was under the impression that Pyrrha Nikos-"

"Perished during the attack on Vale and Beacon Academy," he finished for her, "Yes, I was there; I remember those events all too well…" He knocked his coffee back, letting the scalding liquid fall down his throat before it could burn him. "...and before you ask, no, it would have been impossible to recover her body due to the manner of her death."

"Then how was she standing before is back in that lab?" the woman wondered, "I mean, I'm aware that cloning is theoretically possible, but without the genetic material with which to grow a clone from…?"

"An astute question," he remarked, "I'll admit, it was quite a challenge to get access to Miss Nikos's medical records- which reminds me, I need to make an appearance at another of Jacques's ego-stroking Galas… Regardless, I was able to obtain a sample of her blood from the hospital in Haven City."

"Yes, that makes sense…," Winter mused. "Pardon me for being skeptical-"

"You're fine."

"...thank you, Sir. As I was saying, I understand the need for this on a practical level: being able to revive fallen soldiers would be an _incredible_ advantage for humanity in general! What I don't understand is why you decided to test this with Pyrrha Nikos?"

Ironwood sighed and set his mug to the side. "To be honest, many people would have preferred if a hero from here in Atlas were brought back for this; I won't lie, the thought did cross my mind at some points. However, think of what it would look like to the rest of the world if we brought back one of our own."

She thought for a moment, frowning as realization dawned.

"Oh...I see…"

"Precisely; if we start bringing our own people back, people will get suspicious and seek to take this ability from us, possibly by force. _However_, if we bring back someone who was universally loved by not just Atlas, but the world at large, then that tells people we won't be stingy with this and, at worst, they'll simply badger us to use it before we agree."

"And Pyrrha Nikos _does_ fit those qualifications…"

He nodded and picked his mug back up. "Given how well known she was prior to attending Beacon, and the...unfortunate incident with Penny, not to mention how she valiantly apparently fought against Cinder Fall, I can't think of anyone more worthy of being given a second chance at life." He sipped his cocktail as he finished.

Winter's brow furrowed. "But what of the side effects of such a procedure? I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to suddenly return to life after a death like hers..."

"Neither can I; I suppose that will just be something we'll just have to discover in time." He swirled the liquid in his mug around, staring contemplatively at it for a moment. "...was there anything else, Winter?"

"No, sir," she shook her head, "As you said, time will tell if this endeavor even pans out."

"Then you may return to your duties." He set his mug aside and stood up. "Please relay any information about Miss Nikos's recovery you deem relevant. And Specialist?"

She immediately went ramrod straight upon hearing her title used. "Sir?"

"Please be discrete about this; I don't need to remind you that if word of this leaks out, it'll be a major fiasco."

"Of course, General." She gave a crisp salute, then turned heel and left his office.

The general slumped back in his seat once she left, letting out a breath he'd been holding ever since he'd received the news that Pyrrha Nikos was awakening.

"I hope to God this works…"

_to be continued…_

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_A/N: I'm [tentatively] back, everyone! I'll know for sure whether I'm back in the Fanfic game depending on how smoothly Chapter 2 goes._

_Also, thanks to "A Man With A Box" for beta reading this; he's a good writer, so go check out his RWBY fic "Paradigm of the Rose", it's super creative and engaging!_


	2. First steps

They called her "Pyrrha Nikos".

It was both completely foreign to her, yet at the same time annoyingly familiar, as though she was just on the cusp of remembering it, always coming up short just before the revelation. She wanted to ask the people who kept fussing over her about it, but it was still too painful to try and speak. Not that she wouldn't have known just how to present the question even if she were able to speak, since she was having trouble recalling words; her mind was still cloudy and as such it was difficult to hold focus on anything, nor did it help that she constantly felt too tired to keep her eyes open for any length of time. She would frequently drift in and out of a restless slumber, strangely devoid of dreams.

She didn't remember the names of any of the people in white coats – her brief bouts of consciousness weren't helpful in retaining information – save for one of them: a cerulean haired woman called "Dr. Nightengale", and she only remembered that because the other people (Were they doctors as well? They were dressed the same…) always referred to the woman as such, and she always seemed to be around during the periods that she was both awake and aware.

"Pyrrha" didn't quite know what to think of her – or any of them, really, but specifically Dr. Nightengale. The blunette woman often asked her questions, somewhat incessantly, but she never forced her to answer, and they were, typically, questions that could be answered with either a "yes" or "no" response, one of the few things she had the strength to do, and the lucidity to understand.

"Hello again, Pyrrha. I take it you're still feeling tired?" Dr. Nightengale asked.

She nodded once.

"I thought as much. Don't worry, once your body gets some more nutrients in it you'll feel much better. ...can you speak yet?"

She tried, but all she was able to manage was a hoarse rasp. She shook her head in dismay.

The woman sighed, "Figures… Well, I guess it was too much to hope for results after only a couple of days…" She made a few taps on her Scroll. "You should hopefully be able to speak more easily after another day or so of recovery." Then the doctor pocketed her Scroll and pulled a chair next to the girl's bed, straddling it in reverse. "Anyway, enough of this doctor stuff; my name is Carol, and once you're able to talk properly again, just let me know if you ever need anything and I'll see what I can do to make it happen."

The woman's gentle smile and soft manner of speaking was definitely the most soothing thing "Pyrrha" had been exposed to since her awakening. She felt herself relaxing, and a faint smile blossomed onto her face. It reminded her of...something.

She nodded.

"Excellent! Anyway, I'll be around...basically all the time, so don't hesitate to get my attention if you need anything, OK?"

She nodded again, then laid her head back against her pillow, turning to face the woman while she was still here.

"You know…," the cerulean haired woman said contemplatively, "this probably doesn't mean much to you, but I'm confident there are a lot of people who will be ecstatic to learn you're alive and well. After all, it's not every day that someone goes through what you did and lives to tell about it."

And that was just another in a long line of questions "Pyrrha" wanted to ask: what _had_ happened to put her in such a state? Emaciated, utterly exhausted, and unable to recall anything beyond waking up in that weird container...whatever had happened, it must have been terrible to go through. (That was one of the few perks of having no long-term memory, not being able to imagine what suffering was inflicted on her. It was a small comfort only, though.) She hoped her memory would return. It was...lonely, not recognizing yourself...

"Well, I have some other things to check on," the older woman said after a while; she'd been speaking, but Pyrrha hadn't really paid attention, "so I'll let you get some more rest and check on you again later, OK?" She stood up and moved the chair back to its original place. "If you need something, just push the button on the rail there." She pointed to a prominent red button attached to the safety railing on the hospital bed by Pyrrha's right hand. "Either myself or one of the other physicians will take care of you if you do, got it?" Pyrrha nodded again, then laid back and closed her eyes, falling into another dreamless sleep.

Hopefully Dr. Nightengale was right and she'd recover enough to speak normally in a few days.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

As it turned out, the older woman spoke true; Pyrrha was able to form words after a couple more days, though she had to keep her sentences short, and could more easily communicate with her caretakers. Unfortunately, her memory was still a veritable blank slate, though she was assured when she asked about it that this was fairly normal. Apparently, sometimes it took years for one's memory to rerun after it was lost, and other times the person never restored their memory; it was a combination of the extent of the injury that caused the loss in the first place and the person's own genetics...or something like that. Honestly? Pyrrha (she'd gotten more used to using that name) didn't really understand a lot of the medical jargon that was used to explain it, even with Dr. Nightengale there to help translate it into layman's terms.

Not long after that conversation, she was paid a visit by a new face, though one she actually recalled seeing recently.

It was somewhat hard to forget the experience of waking up like she had.

"...General…," she greeted, having been informed of the way to properly address the man.

"Miss. Nikos," he greeted in turn. He stood ramrod straight, his expression betraying none of his emotions. "I'm pleased to see that you're recovering well; your face seems a bit fuller than it did a few days ago."

"Yes...so I've been told…" She reached for her nightstand and took a sip of water from the glass of water she kept there. Talking was possible, but it was still a slightly strenuous affair. "The doctors have been helpful…"

"I imagine they are." He stepped closer and picked up a chart that hung from the foot of her bed. "Dr. Nightengale has been keeping me well informed of your progress. ...I understand that you're still having trouble remembering things about your past?"

She gave a small nod. "It's difficult...but I just need time...right…?"

"With any luck, it won't be too much time." He put the chart back and took a knee next to the bed- he was tall enough that they were relatively at eye level now. "I'm...not sure how much this will mean to you, but you really were an extraordinary girl before..._this_ happened to you...I sincerely hope that we'll be able to help you become that girl again."

Many people had been telling her that lately, how amazing she used to be, though not so much that it ever became overwhelming. Still, she wished she could remember what or who she was, if only to have an idea of how accurate those statements were.

"...thank you...I'll do my best..."

She took another sip of water.

"That's good to hear-" He stood back up. "-and I have no doubt you will." He took one of her hands in his, and she could instantly tell just how frail hers was; she still had a long way to go on her road to recovery.

He then let it go after a moment. "Do feel free to come see me when you have the strength. I'm sure you wouldn't mind the occasional change of scenery, at any rate?"

"...I will," she replied, "...thank you again…"

"Don't mention it." And with that, the military man left.

Now that he mentioned it, she wouldn't mind a change of scenery. Apart from the container, her hospital room was the only place she'd been. At least...that she could recall; her exhaustion still kept her from remaining awake for more than an hour or two at a time, so she may have been brought else and just not known about it.

That was it, she decided, once Dr. Nightengale deemed she was strong enough to move around, she'd ask about being able to travel around the building, over maybe even look around outside for a while...she _knew_ what the sun was, and had a vague recollection of what it was supposed to look like, but she wanted to see it firsthand- ...on second thought, she'd be fine just feeling its heat on her skin; for some reason, the idea of looking directly at the sun seemed like a bad one.

She'd have to ask Dr. Nightengale about that the next time the woman came by to check on her.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_And with that, chapter 2 is done. I'm not going to promise a consistent or even a timely release schedule for this story; I haven't sat done and written anything like this in over a year, so it's going to take some time for me to get back into old writing habits._

_That said, what do you think of things so far? Hearing people's opinions and critiques are part of the enjoy fanfic writers get out of plying our craft, so please leave a review with your thoughts, and Follow this fic so you can be updated when each new chapter is posted._


	3. A chance to rest

As time passed, Pyrrha's recovery progressed more and more each day.

By the end of the week, she could speak in full sentences, at the cost of only sounding a little raspy.

The day after that, she was able to move from her bed to a wheelchair under her own efforts.

Once two weeks had passed she was, for all intents and purposes, able to move around on her own. She still needed the wheelchair to move for any length of time, but she could make it over to the toilet if she needed to. (Dr. Nightengale remarked that they would be able to begin physical therapy so she wouldn't need the wheelchair forever.)

During that time she was filled in on what was happening in the world. Apparently, Beacon Academy was attacked during the Vytal Festival, and Vale's CCT tower was compromised, cutting off communications between Kingdoms. Afterward, Atlas withdrew its support from Vale, leaving them to fend for themselves. There was also a commotion more recently at Haven Academy in Mistral, though attempts to contract the headmaster there continue to be unsuccessful.

"From what we can gather from the reports on what went on there, it's clear that the White Fang were involved in some capacity with what happened, but the full extent of that involvement has yet to be determined." Ironwood sat behind his desk, answering the questions that Pyrrha asked him. She was sat across from him in her wheelchair. "If you want to know more than that, it'll be a while before we can properly correspond with Mistral on the matter."

"That's fine," she insisted, her voice still a bit hoarse, "I appreciate you what you've been able to tell me so far."

She'd learned quite a bit since being able to stay awake for extended periods, mostly reaffirming things she felt she already knew. (Another common symptom of her memory loss.) It had been an interesting experience, to say the least.

Still, some things seemed to be constantly beyond her reach. For example, she knew who the Faunus were- there were some among the doctors who cared for her- but apart from the people she saw in the facility, she couldn't recall if she'd known any Faunus personally in her lost past. Considering they made up a significant percentage of Remnant's total population, it was statistically likely that she had, yet for the life of her, it seemed that the names of anyone she might have known at one point were irrevocably lost to time.

This also extended beyond the races of her acquaintances to other things: her immediate family and friends she might have had, the names of places she'd been, celebrities she might have followed... most things that weren't already considered facts of life. Ironically, she'd be more frustrated if she could remember exactly how much she'd lost.

"Considering your current predicament, it's no problem, Miss Nikos." The general reached for a carafe next to him and began to fill hours mug. "Would you like some?" he offered.

She shook her head. "No, thank you...I don't think I could handle coffee just yet." She currently had her hands folded in her lap while she spoke with the general, something she felt she never really did before yet felt comfortable. "I'm only just getting started on fruit juices."

"That's fine." He set the carafe aside after filling the mug partway, then he took a flask from his jacket and added some of its contents to the mug. "I can have some water brought in if you want?"

"I'm fine for now," she insisted, "I probably sound worse than this actually is."

"If you say so." He took a healthy sip from his mug before setting it back on the desk. "Just know that we're effectively at your beck and call, Miss Nikos."

She blushed a little. "I appreciate that General Ironwood, but you don't need to worry about me so much; I'm doing much better now, and if Dr. Nightengale's prognosis is accurate I should be back to my old self in about a month, maybe less."

The general sighed. "...I have a confession to make, Pyrrha." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk before he continued, "And I'd like to ask for you to hear me out before rendering any final judgments. You see...I know something about your past that I've neglected to share with you."

This took her a little aback; she'd always assumed the General had been nothing but truthful to her, but to know that he'd been withholding information that could help her discover who she was…

"Before your...well, you now _apparent_ demise, you were training to become a Huntress, and if I may say so, you were quite a promising young warrior at that. You were able to best almost any opponent you fought against, and you actually had quite a few sponsorship deals from your participation in the competitive circuit prior to your enrolling in Beacon Academy. This string of victories followed you during your tuition, in addition to excelling at academic studies. When Beacon was attacked, you fought to the best of your abilities...but your best proved not to be quite enough." He paused. "...during the attack on Beacon, there was a woman who managed to steal something that was being kept there. We tried to take measures to prevent that woman from being completely successful, though we failed, and..._you_ took it upon yourself to stop her from getting away scot-free."

He paused again in his exposition, which gave her the time to put the pieces together. "...that led to me being here, didn't it?"

"Somewhat indirectly, but yes."

"I see…" It didn't answer _all_ her questions, but she had a clearer picture of what her life was like in the past.

Then her migraines flared up again.

"Miss Nikos?..."

She waved him off. "It's nothing...apparently this is another side effect that will pass in time."

At least according to Dr. Nightengale, anyway. The woman had been nothing but helpful in the time from Pyrrha's "reawakening", even going out of her way to bring movies and recordings of past Vytal Festivals, as well as books and news periodicals to help her catch up on the things that had happened since that apparently fateful Vytal Festival that caused the gap in her memory. And on top of that she was genuinely pleasant to talk to; whenever something seemed to fly over her head, "Carol" would try to explain it in a way Pyrrha would actually understand it. It had helped her recovery time seem as though it were flying right by.

A bit more time passed, the General and the infirm girl shooting the breeze about nothing particular, when Ironwood eventually stood up. "I've enjoyed our time together, Miss Nikos, but I'm afraid if I held you here any longer, Dr. Nightengale would have a few choice words for me that I dare not repeat in civilized company. Shall I walk you back to your room?"

"Thank you for the offer, General," she said, "but I can manage. Besides, I'm sure you have your duties to take care of."

"Fair enough," he replied with a smile, "Then until next time, Miss Nikos."

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

"...alright, I think that's enough leg exercises for now," the cerulean haired doctor said, "how about I grab some popcorn and we watch a Spruce Willis movie? I heard the newest one is supposed to be easy to poke fun at…~"

"Thank you," Pyrrha responded, smiling gently, "but I think I would like to get some rest now, so perhaps another time. Besides, it seems like action movies aren't really my thing, apparently." Her hand came up to rub the back of her head; a reflex action, they'd determined. "I'm sorry…"

"Oh, it's OK, sweetie," Dr. Nightengale said as she reached over and cupped Pyrrha's face in a very motherly gesture, "I understand. I'll just find something else for us to watch next time, you just rest up; at this rate, you should be able to ditch the wheelchair for a walker soon, but I'll know more after tomorrow's PT session." She got up from her seat and picked her Scroll up from the bedside table. "Just push the button if you-"

Her statement was cut short by a sharp knock on the door, Specialist Winter Schnee entering a moment later.

"Pardon the interruption, I need to speak with the doctor," she stated. Her voice was proper and officious like it usually was when Pyrrha heard her speak, and her face held a neutral expression. "I trust she can spare a moment?"

"Oh...uh, yes, I was just about to leave, anyway." She briefly turned back to Pyrrha, "You know how to reach me." Pyrrha nodded, and laid her head back on the pillows, letting her eyes gently fall shut as the two women stepped out of the room.

She wouldn't say as much out loud, but Pyrrha was actually grateful for the interruption. She liked Dr. Nightengale well enough, but sometimes the woman could be a little overbearing. Not in an annoying way, but in that she always seemed to be around and wanting to do something. Granted, the bevy of medical tests and physical therapy session were normal (something the other doctors had confirmed as well), but lately, there was rarely a moment for Pyrrha to simply rest and collect her thoughts, which she wanted to do now that she was able to remain awake at length now.

She'd make it up to Carol next time. Perhaps a bit of traditional girl bonding where they braided each other's hair and talked about cute boys?

Tomorrow she'd give it some more thought, after she got some rest.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

Carol Nightengale _really_ could go on, Winter realized, if you let her. She'd simply asked for a prognosis of Pyrrha Nikos' condition so she could take a reported it to General Ironwood, something that should have only three sentences at most, in theory.

And yet…

"…so as you can see, her progress is actually _ahead_ of my initial projections. Granted, given how erratic her awakening was, she should probably still be laid up in bed; the fact that she's able to be active for extended lengths of time and able to be mobile _mostly_ under her own power is nothing short of miraculous!"

"I'm sure it is, Doctor, there's no disputing that," Winter quickly interjected before the good doctor could go on her next diatribe, "but I merely asked how soon do you think Miss Nikos will be able to attempt combat training."

Nightengale looked like she was about to tell Winter off for interrupting her, her expression souring briefly, but apparently thought better of it and did as she was asked. "It's honestly hard to say at this point; you have to understand, her body is still developing enough muscle mass after effectively being brain dead for months. And that's not even taking into account that this body is a clone of her original one."

Winter felt the urge to interrupt again, but held her tongue. Medicine wasn't her strong suit, and this did seem relevant to her question on second glance (though in a roundabout way) so she was willing to at least hear the Doctor out for now.

"Basically, humans and Faunus bodies grow at a gradual rate, which naturally allows for time to condition them to the basic needs of life, or to hone them into potential Huntsmen and Huntresses. Pyrrha's body, on the other hand, was grown in a test tube straight into adulthood, and was awaken before we really had a chance to artificially condition it to even the most minimal levels, so I really couldn't give you a solid answer, Miss Schnee."

Winter sighed. "I understand what you're saying, but General Ironwood has asked for something a bit more definitive. Even an educated guess would be sufficient."

Dr. Nightengale took her Scroll out and brought up graphs that Winter could only speculate the purposes of.

"If she keeps improving at her current rate," she pointed at one of the graphs, "and no setbacks happen, then...I'd say about three months at the absolute minimum, give or take a couple of weeks for safety."

...well, it wasn't ideal, but at least it was something to work with.

"Very well, I shall inform the General of that."

"Please do. And tell him to let the poor girl go outside once in a while; she's still looking as pale as a bowl of rice in a snowstorm, she needs to get some natural sunlight in her system."

"Duly notes. I'll pass that along."

With that Winter nodded to the doctor and headed off towards her next task: informing Ironwood that he'd need to be patient for a while longer.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_To quote from the best Monty Python movie ever: "I'm not dead yet!" _

_Honestly, I wasn't quite as driven to write as I was right at the beginning of the year, but thanks to stuff I now have a better means of working on my craft in between other real life obligations. So, I felt it was best to get another chapter of this story out soon so I can start working on the next one. (Volume 7 running its course also helped, once now I have a better idea of the characters that will be involved in this tale.) _

_And for the people who were interested in my RWBY Alien parody, I'll get back to that at some point; it's been a hot minute since I last watched the film. _


	4. Mounting questions

True to Dr. Nightengale's predictions, Pyrrha's health continued to improve at a steady rate. She soon moved from a wheelchair to a walker, and then to using a simple cane after that. She was also allowed to visit a private garden in order for her skin to be exposed to natural sunlight, which was usually a highlight for her; not only did the sun feel nice, but all the flowers looked and smelled utterly lovely.

...the ice cream she got on the way also helped with that.

"I never would have taken you for a good junkie," the doctor jovially remarked as the pair of them sat on a bench in the garden, "you normally don't even eat much of your meals at the facility."

"They don't taste like this!" Pyrrha exuberantly exclaimed, pausing for a moment from her frozen treat to make this known. "I could eat this forever!"

"Understandable, but man cannot survive on ice cream alone, no matter how much we'd like to," Nightengale chuckled. "Remember, don't eat it too fast, or you'll get brain freeze."

Pyrrha nodded, eagerly taking another lick of her delicious treat. "...I can't believe that I forgot about ice cream...it makes me wonder what else I've forgotten about in my coma…"

"I can only speculate; I never knew you when you were growing up, only what the media chose to focus on."

Again, Pyrrha nodded. She'd seen a few bits of the popular media she'd apparently been involved in, mostly some brief interviews and a biography about her life up until she attended Beacon Academy: all very general, broad information.

...come to think of it, apart from General Ironwood, she hadn't met anyone else she might have known in the past. There must have been at least _some _people; she seemed like she was very personable back then. And she had to have parents, or at least guardians of some kind, right? Not to mention all of her peers from Beacon, plus however many others she just couldn't recall at the moment. In all the time she'd spent recovering from being woken up like she had, it just hadn't occurred to her that no one aside from the doctors and the General's staff had ever come to see her.

Dr. Nightengale must have picked up on her apprehension because her own pleasant expression faded. "Is something wrong, sweetie?"

She looked at the cone of frozen diary in her hand for a moment, before turning to face the blue-haired woman. "...does anyone actually care that I'm still alive?" she asked.

The older woman blinked a couple of times, evidentially not prepared for such a question. "Well...of course they do! The General cares a lot, and _I_ care."

"I'm sure you both do, I'm sorry if I implied that you didn't...but I meant my friends and family that I knew before...whatever happened to me."

The woman nodded once and sighed. "I'm afraid we haven't really been forthcoming with you, Pyrrha. There were...situations surrounding the accident, and unfortunately it's not really my place to reveal that information to you; you'd need to talk with the General about that, they were his orders."

"...I see," she said, though what remained unspoken was that she didn't like that Dr. Nightengale didn't give an actual answer. "I suppose I'll have to ask him about it, then."

"I promise you, if I could tell you right now, I would." She seemed sincere.

Pyrrha nodded and resumed licking up her ice cream cone, slurping up some that started to dribble down her hand.

Apparently, it was time to start asking some more probing questions.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

Ironwood didn't think Jacques' parties were the worst things in the world, despite how much he bemoaned attending them. Social functions were just as much a part of his job as keeping his military in check, and he'd been to several that he genuinely enjoyed. Jacques' wasn't much different, in theory: pleasant music in the background, decided food, a steady supply of liquor, should it be required. ...Which it often did, considering the people who usually attended these functions.

Honestly, it was the people who usually soured things for him; it was almost always the upper crust of Atlas, people who typically had more free time and money than they did common sense, and who were often willfully or genuinely ignorant of anything that didn't affect them or their wallets directly. They were snobs, elitists, blowhards, and assholes.

Or, in Jacques' case, a "blow easy".

...that joke sounded better in his head.

"...so then I told him 'I don't _care _what your policy on staff breaks is; I paid good money to dine here, so Gavino's better give me some service! ...unless you _don't _want to lose one of your best patrons, that is.~"

Right on cue, Jacques' current group of yes men (and women) started heaping adulation on him, complimenting his acumen or just laughing at the humor they found in the anecdote.

Thank the gods he was with a different group that formed.

"...General Ironwood, are you even paying attention here?"

He refocused his attention on the one who spoke, a middle-aged woman (he could tell she had some work done) with chartreuse hair. "My apologies; I thought I saw someone I recognized. What was your question again?"

With a slight note of annoyance in her voice she replied "I asked you what this special project was you mentioned before. Surely it must be related to your bid for re-election to the council, or else you wouldn't have even bothered with it in the first place."

Right, _that._ He'd honestly not put much effort into forwarding that since Pyrrha's "resurrection" had been so successful. Not that most people here would have agreed with him, but that took priority over politics for blindingly obvious reasons.

"Whether it does or not remains to be seen," he responded, keeping his voice even. "But suffice to say, with the way things are progressing, I should be able to make the details of that public before too much longer."

"Well, it sounds to me like you aren't taking your political career seriously. So what if your soldiers don't have better polish for their toys? Being on the council is a serious business and affects many, many people."

Translation: being in charge gave you power and influence to advance your own agendas.

"Now now," a younger man spoke up. Unlike everyone else in attendance, who all wore fine suits and dresses, he's attire seemed more suited to a Huntsman's lifestyle of regularly being on the road. In fact, save for a weapon if any kind, he could easily be mistaken for one if you didn't already know that he was the son of one of Atlas's premier fashion designers, "I'm sure this big mystery project must be very important if the General is putting so much focus on it. In fact...I'd wager that he's cooking up some new weapon or defense system to help eliminate Grimm faster. That's what I'd be doing, anyway."

Well…he wasn't _wrong_, technically…

"I can assure you all that the world will be a better place once this fully comes to fruition," he said, "And for clarity, I mean the _entire_ world, not simply Atlas."

"Well, you have fun with that," another man said, "I'd wager actual money this little pet project of yours amounts to little more than a simple flight of fancy."

If only he knew…

"In any case, I can think of plenty of eager partners who would just _love_ to…'support' your bid for the Council~," the first woman said, practically dripping with barely restrained lust.

As if these people didn't already have the money to spare on stating these urges...why was there always at least _one_ at every gala?

Ironically, Jacques turned out to be his savior in this instance, as the man appeared, interjecting himself between himself and the woman. "Now now, I'm sure James can handle himself well enough on his own; he's had more than enough practice by this point."

"Savior" being used loosely here…

"Thank you, Jacques."

"Oh, I can believe it~," the younger man said with a coy raise of his eyebrow.

...where was the open bar again?

"_In any case_...while I appreciate the offer, I'm perfectly capable of playing the political game on my own. I'll make it known if I require assistance."

At that point Jacques directed the conversation back towards him, but Ironwood had already turned the man out at this point (The Schnee patriarch might have said something about throwing his own hat into the race.)

Which Ironwood was more than OK with; he was about to exhaust all the topics of conversation that actually mattered before it just devolved into baseless gossip, so he took the opportunity to head over to the centerpiece of the event while the head of the SDC kept the attention on him.

Once a sufficient distance away, he let out a quiet sigh. While he normally would have tolerated the usual high society shenanigans, the "top-secret project" that the yuppies kept trying to pry at weighed heavily on his mind. According to Dr. Nightengale, Pyrrha was slowly but surely recovering from the ordeal of being dead, albeit with a greater emphasis on the "slow" part of the process. He'd hoped she would be able to start her retraining as a Huntress by this point, to finally let the secret out into the open...but there was a nagging fear that if someone tried to unlock her Aura it would have adverse effects on her body and mind; she was, to his knowledge, the first successful human clone, and as such he (and by extension the medical staff attached to the project) had no idea what kind of symptoms Pyrrha would display as time went on.

It was one of the only things that prevented him from accelerating things.

"That bad, sir?" The voice of Clover Ebi asked from behind him. Given the history between father and daughter, Winter had elected to abstain from any and all social functions with the possibility of Jacques being in attendance.

He didn't blame her a bit; the man was a blowhard, and put too much stock in his status.

"No more than usual, Operative. You build up a tolerance if you do this long enough."

"That sounds unpleasant."

"It is, Operative, it is." He let out a brief exhale. "I take it everything is still in order; no mishaps back at home?"

"Nothing of note, anyway. Our 'guest' seems comfortable, and Pietro reports that his own project is almost ready for the grand reveal. He actually sent a report along this time."

"Send a copy to my Scroll, I'll look it over on the trip back."

"Affirmative," the brunette man nodded. "Should I be prepared to say you have a call from the base?"

"Appreciated, but no; I should be able to tolerate the blatant selfishness for a while longer? As I said, you build up a tolerance. Not to mention a little booze never hurts to strengthen that tolerance." If he were anyone else, he might have shot Clover a sly wink along with the statement.

As it stood, the wink was implied.

"Understood, sir. Just give me a signal if anything changes."

Ironwood nodded, then made his way over to the bar for some "liquid courage" to bolster that tolerance he mentioned.

2 hours down, a seeming eternity left to go. …he _really _hoped Pietro finished rebuilding his daughter soon so he wouldn't have to put up with this..._this_ for much longer.

/

"...and that's the story of the Grimm Reaper, one of the greatest Huntresses that ever lived."

"That was ab-so-lutely amazing! ...was it really true that she could make the Creatures of Grimm wither away with nothing but a glance?"

"Sort of...there was a bit more to it than just that. ...it'd probably be better if she explained it herself; I only barely understood it myself."

"Oh, I would love to meet her!"

"Maybe someday, honey. I did invite her to stop by the next time she passed through Mantle. Of course, until the global CCT network is fixed, I don't know if she's heading this way anytime soon."

"Oh. ...then it will simply be a surprise; I love surprises!"

"I do too, Penny, I do too."

Just then classical music started to play, accompanied by a low, buzzing noise.

"And speaking of surprises…" The caller ID on the Scroll displayed as "Gen. Ironwood". "Why don't you go and heat up some leftovers? It's almost dinner time, this shouldn't take too long."

"OK!" Penny skipped off to "prepare" dinner, her feet clacking on the floor as she disappeared around the corner.

"I should probably get her some slippers while I finish up her proper body…," Pietro mused before picking up the call. "James, I wasn't expecting you to call me personally. I take it this is about Penny again…?"

/

_Hey, look at that; I got another chapter out! It really is convenient to have a comfortable means of writing again. It really makes it easier to actually get stuff done. _

_Anywho, I have a good idea of where I want to take this story, so look forward to that in the future. If I can make good enough progress on this, I may branch out and try to get some one-shots out that I've been kicking about. _

_Not to mention that Alien parody I started...should probably work on that at some point. _

_But for now, good luck, good health, and we'll see what the next chapter brings._


	5. Overflow

Pyrrha had been standing outside General Ironwood's door for at least ten minutes now.

Well, "standing" was more figurative in this case; she'd come in her wheelchair, just to be on the safe side in case her legs suddenly cramped up on the way. She could have used her walker if she wanted, or even a normal cane if she were feeling bold.

"Bold", right…

She hadn't even mustered up the courage to actually knock on the damn door.

The General had been off at some party or other the previous night (though Winter Schnee assured her that the General would have blown it off he if could), so she'd had to wait until today to ask him about all the people she knew before her accident. It had really weighed heavily on her mind the rest of the day, to the point where she'd laid awake well into the night thinking about the people she must have known in her previous life. When she'd awoken this morning her heart had been brimming with determination, and she'd gone through her morning routine determining what exactly she would ask.

Yet now, in the moment of truth, she felt like a tiny flea facing a Goliath. What was she doing here, did she even _want_ to know the answers to these questions? Ah well it would be better if she focused on her recovery, and worried about that other stuff when she was able to move about under her own effort…

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize that she had company until they spoke up, their measured, proper voice snapping her back to reality.

"Do you need help with something, Miss Nikos?"

Pyrrha glanced up to meet the sharp face of Winter Schnee once again, the woman's ice blue eyes holding just a tinge of concern in them.

"...I think I might," Pyrrha admitted. "You see...I wanted to speak with General Ironwood about something…"

"I believe he is current in his office," Winter supplied, "and to my knowledge he isn't occupied with anything that requires privacy."

"Oh...thank you…"

Winter narrowed her eyes. "...it's more than that, isn't it?" she guessed.

Pyrrha nodded solemnly.

"I see…" She knelt down beside the chair so the two of them were at eye level. "For what it's worth, you can confide in me if you need to. I have a younger sister, and when we were children she would tell me of things that she didn't want others to know about. ...we haven't seen each other in some time, and I may be slightly out of practice, but I can assure you that nothing you tell me in confidence will be shared without your permission."

There was something about the older woman's words that told Pyrrha she could trust her. From what she'd witnessed whenever the woman had been nearby, Winter Schnee wasn't someone who kept her emotions close to her chest, so for her to drop the "dutiful soldier" routine like this...it struck a chord within her.

Pyrrha folded her hands upon her lap and closed her eyes. "...well, you see," she began, "lately I've been having...doubts, I suppose…" She paused.

Winter's gaze indicated she was waiting for Pyrrha to continue.

"...I know everyone here has been doing their best to help me return to my full health, and I truly appreciate it...but…" She struggled to find her words for a second. "...I haven't seen any new faces for about a month, and the only times I've been away from this building have been with one of those same people as my escort. I can't remember any names or faces, but I _know_ that I had to have friends...a family who's worried about me...maybe even colleagues or peers who are wondering what happened to me." Her expression dropped, tears starting to well in the corners of her eyes now that she'd broached the subject. "...I know Dr. Nightengale says it's only a matter of time before my memory returns, but I'm not sure it ever will, especially if I never have anything to help jog it. I just...want answers. And at the same time I'm not even sure having those answers will matter…"

Throughout her confession, Winter had stayed silent, giving Pyrrha the opportunity to air her grievances at her own pace. Once it was apparent that Pyrrha had said as much as she was able the woman softly inhaled and looked Pyrrha in the eye.

"Now, I may not be in a position to judge this… but it sounds to me like you haven't really given yourself the chance to cry about anything. Is that correct."

She was about to dispute the militant woman's observations, but the more Pyrrha thought about it, the more she realized that she didn't recall ever feeling sad since she'd woken up again. She'd certainly been experiencing other emotions in that time, there was no question about that, but for the life of her she couldn't recall an instance where she'd allowed herself to shed any tears. All the people she'd met since awaking had been nothing but helpful to her, and someone was always there to help her if she needed it. Dr. Nightengale had been the most proactive in this regard, almost acting like a mother sometimes.

Which was...alright.

"I haven't…," she admitted, "...but I don't think that's quite it in this case, Miss Winter."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean it won't need to happen at some point," Winter pointed out. "I fully admit that I've let myself cry over distressing news before, so perhaps it is simply time for you to let the emotions that have built up spill out."

"I know, and I most likely will...but after I talk with General Ironwood. That is...if I should even talk with him about this at all…"

Winter pursed her lips. "...I think I see now; you wish to have your questions answered, but you are unsure of what those answers will be, and are unsure if you want to potentially be disappointed by them. Is that closer to what you meant?"

Pyrrha nodded; Winter had basically summed up her feelings at this moment in time.

"I know there are things about my past that are being held back from me...and I'm sure there is a reason for the secrecy, whatever it may be…" She inhaled a breath, sitting up a bit straighter in her chair. "But I would still like to know what those reasons are, if nothing else. And...and even if I do not like the answers I am given, I still wish to know more about the person I used to be, and the people I knew." Her face was steeled with determination, and not a single shred of her previous doubt could be seen in her emerald green eyes.

"Then if you're sure…" Winter stood up, reaching her hand out towards the buzzer next to Ironwood's door. "Would you like me to announce you?"

Once again Pyrrha nodded, smiling.

"Yes, thank you, Miss Schnee. ...and also, thank you for letting me confide in you; it seems I needed to confess my worries to someone."

"Your welcome, Miss Nikos," Winter nodded back, pressing the buzzer.

"_Who is it?"_ the General's voice came over the speaker.

"Specialist Winter Schnee, Sir. Pyrrha Nikos is here and wishes to speak with you."

"_Very well, send her in."_

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

Winter hadn't stayed around to listen to the conversation between Pyrrha and the General; neither had said they wanted her to stay, and she knew enough to give people their privacy when they wanted it. Besides, she had other things she needed to attend to, more important things than eavesdropping on her boss and a distraught girl.

Though technically her first order of business was related to the distraught girl whom she'd just left.

She made her way through the facility towards the medical wing, keeping an eye out for the cerulean haired doctor who'd been caring for Pyrrha Nikos. It only took a few minutes before she found the woman, sitting at her desk and mulling over medical charts.

"Doctor," she said, appraoching the desk, "do you have a minute?"

The doctor started, evidentially not expecting anyone to approach her at the moment.

"Oh! ...hello there, Specialist. Well...I suppose so." She set the papers aside. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could tell me about Pyrrha Nikos. I just spoke with her, and I was wondering about her wellbeing."

"I think that could be arranged." The doctor sat back in her office chair, folding her hands on her lap. "Ask away."

"Thank you, Doctor. To start, how well would you say she's been handling the experience of being alive again?"

"I'd say very well, actually. She really is a remarkable young woman, if I do say so myself. Always so bright and cheerful, always smiling...it's like she was back before she started attending Beacon."

"...I wasn't aware you followed her career," Winter remarked.

Nightengale shrugged. "We all have our hobbies."

"Indeed. Anyway, I feel it's safe to say that you've spent more time with her than the rest of your staff, correct?"

"Considering that I'm her primary physician, yes, it is. And since I know you're going to ask this eventually, my original prognosis hasn't changed; barring any sudden upsets, she should be back to normal human levels of health in a couple months."

"That is good to know, I'll be sure to inform the General if he asks about it."

"Please do. And tell him to stop with the little 'nudges' while you're at it."

This gave Winter pause. "...'nudges'?"

"To accelerate her healing," the doctor clarified, "I keep telling him that it will take as long as it'll take, and yet…" She cleared her throat. "Without fail...'I understand that, Doctor, but if there's any way you could help it along I would be grateful. She can't stay coupled up here forever, can she?' Every time, without fail, the same damn thing." She let out an exasperated sigh. "...sorry. Was there anything else?"

..._interesting_…

"No, you've been most informative, thank you." She gave the doctor a nod and headed off.

...she was _definitely _telling the General about this.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

By the time their conversation was done, Pyrrha wished she could rewind time to before it happened and tell herself that the old adage of "ignorance is bliss" was more than just a saying. She knew there were plenty of her old fans who probably still missed her and wished she had fallen into her coma for so long, and she _knew_ she had to have had family and friends who were just anxious for news about her recovery...but until just a few minutes ago they'd all been a nebulous idea that she had no firsthand knowledge of, no idea who these people were or what her feelings for them were.

But now...apparently, she had a mother who live in Mistral, a small group of friends she was close to at Beacon, the team she was assigned to, and a young man on that team who she'd had feelings for.

And the thought of how they must have been hurting all this time, not knowing if she would ever wake up again…it was pretty much all she could do to keep from bursting into tears on the spot.

She slowly wheeled herself back to her room, closing and locking the door behind her. She wheeled herself next to her bed, eased herself over, pulled her legs under the covers…

And once she'd laid down against the elevated pillows Dr. Nightengale provided for her...she let her head drop into her hands and started bawling her eyes out. Literally every single emotion she'd been saving up over the last month came pouring out in pain, muffled sobs.

All those people...she'd been in a coma for all this time, and they'd all been fretting non-stop about her, and they didn't even know that she was awake again!

General Ironwood had said he hadn't made her recovery public was because he didn't want to put them through seeing her like she was when she'd first awoken, looking so malnourished and gaunt that's she may as well have been a skeleton...which made sense; she probably would have done the same in his place.

But it still hurt to know that she was the cause of so much pain and suffering, even if it was indirect like this.

"_I'm so sorry…!"_

Suddenly there was a knock at her door.

"_Pyrrha, are you decent in there?"_ Dr. Nightengale's voice said from the other side, "_I just got a new movie I thought the two of us could watch."_

Pyrrha quickly tried to compose herself before she called out "J-just a minute…!", grabbing her cane and hobbling over to unlock the door; she hurriedly tried to wipe the tears out of her eyes before she opened it. "...hello again, Dr. Nightengale."

"Oh please, I said you could call me Caro-" The cerulean haired woman's face suddenly hardened. "...you were crying, weren't you?"

"...yes," she nodded. Apparently she didn't do that good a job of cleaning up on such short notice after all. "...I-I decided to talk with General Ironwood…"

"I see…" The woman motioned for Pyrrha to continue.

"Well, I took your advice and went to ask about more of my past from the General...and he told me as much as he knew about…" Her eyes began to tear up again. "...did you know I had a mother back in Mistral…?"

The doctor's expression softened a bit. "I remember there being something about that in your medical files...though to be honest I didn't really pay it much mind; your body is the perfect picture of health, more or less, and I couldn't find any physical defects with you during your examinations- ...I'm rambling again, aren't I? Go on, Honey."

"Thank you… Well, you see…."

_to be continued…_

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_Well, it looks like Pyrrha has some things she needs to work through. Here's hoping Ironwood has a counselor in this facility. _

_Anyway, I should have the next chapter up in a relatively short time, and I think you guys are gonna enjoy what I have planned for it. (And remember, stay safe out there!)_


	6. Looking for

Pietro wasn't typically a morning; he spent long hours working into the night, so that coupled with his old age usually meant he didn't truly begin his mornings until 10.

Which was normally fine. He didn't have much family left, his friends had either passed on or living across the world, and the people of Mantle tended not to bother him until he turned on the sign above his front door. (Barring a genuine emergency, of course.) And since Penny had returned he wasn't as lonely as before, though he was understandably distressed when he saw her get sliced up on live television; he had trouble letting her out of his sight for a decent few weeks after that.

"_Sal-u-taions, Father_! General Ironwood is currently trying to contact you!"

All that to say his alarm clock apparently had other plans than letting him get another hour of sleep in.

"I wonder what he wants…?" he mumbled, reaching for the Scroll he kept on his bedside table.

"I do not know," Penny said, less exuberantly than before now that Pietro was awake, "he only said to wake you up as soon as possible."

Somewhat odd, but nothing he couldn't deal with for the moment.

"Well, it must be important if he wants my old bones out of bed," he remarked. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and as he activated the device and accepted the call. "Mmm...what can I do for you, James?"

"_How soon can Penny be in a combat ready state?"_ The General asked, his voice brusque as he forwent pleasantries, "_Something has come up that requires her to be on active duty sooner than expected."_

"How bad exactly?" he asked, tapping the screen a few times to summon his walking chair, "It's not a Grimm attack, is it?"

"_Nothing so easily dealt with, I assure you. Now, how soon can she be ready?"_

"Well...I'd say about a couple of hours," he rubbed his beard, "I'd need to run a quick diagnostic on her Combat chassis-"

"_Forget about that; you can consider this a stress test of her new design."_

Ok, this was _clearly_ upsetting Ironwood something fierce if he was so insistent on getting Penny combat ready.

"If you don't mind me asking, General...what's happened that my daughter needs to be on active duty so soon?"

Ironwood sighed on the other end of the line.

"_...Pyrrha Nikos has been abducted from her hospital bed."_

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

He should have seen this coming! How he could have been so utterly blind about-?

...in hindsight, the signs had been all but lit in neon: the near-constant attention to Pyrrha's wellbeing, the increasingly outrageous demands...Ironwood had always thought Carol Nightengale to be a bit eccentric, and a bit single-minded in what she thought needed to be done, but in all the time he'd known her he would have never pegged the woman to pull something like this!

What he wouldn't give for an ocean of Scotch right now...

"...explain this to me again," he told the guard standing before him, a fair-skinned woman with orange-tinged hair, "how you allowed the _one_ person in the entire world you were meant to protect just slip away undetected?"

"I have no excuse, sir-"

"_Answer the question, soldier_!" he barked, "How did Dr. Nightengale get past you with Pyrrha Nikos and you not notice?"

_Lots_ of Scotch…

"...all Dr. Nightengale had with her was a stretcher with a body bag on it. The scanner didn't register any life signs, so I assumed she was headed to the morgue…"

"You're correct, you _don't _have an excuse for what happened; you should have opened the bag if you thought it was strange." He started pacing. "And now...this could turn everything I've worked for upside down if it's not dealt with promptly and correctly...consider yourself on an indefinite leave of absence, Soldier, pending your evaluation."

"...understood, sir."

"Dismissed."

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

When Pyrrha eventually opened her eyes again, she wasn't greeted with the sterile white walls of the hospital she'd called home for the past few weeks. Instead, she was in a darkly lit room. After her eyes adjusted to the new lighting, she could see that, aside from the bed, there was little other furniture and no decorations on the walls. And on top of that, a bedside lamp was the only source of light in the room; she couldn't even make out any windows.

And for some reason, she couldn't move her arms or legs.

...what?

She tried again to raise her arms, only to meet the same resistance. ...it felt like there was something on her wrists and ankles keeping her-

The sound of the door opening distracted her from her rising fear, a familiar voice calling out in the dim light.

"_Pyrrha...are you awake yet? I made you breakfast: eggs-in-a-basket with fresh, crisp bacon!~ I know it's a bit heavier than what they have in Mistral, but this was kind of short notice, so I didn't exactly have much time to prepare things…"_

A moment later Dr. Nightengale sat on the edge of the bed, placing a breakfast tray down across it. (There was also a glass of milk next to the plate of eggs that the doctor hadn't mentioned.)

"Doing alright now? You seemed to be having a right night."

At any other time, the cerulean-haired woman's pleasant smile might have been a welcome sight.

"...why can't I move my arms?" she asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

"Oh, that? Well...you must have been suffering from a night terror last night, as best I could tell. You were thrashing about quite violently; I had a hell of a time trying to calm you down, I can tell you that."

...night terrors? She couldn't remember any dreams she'd had since she'd awoken from her coma, if she'd even dreamt at all... Pyrrha tried to think back to the previous night, to try and recall what could have caused her such distress...yet nothing past her meeting with General Ironwood had any clarity in her memory for some reason.

Well, she _did_ recall being upset after that, so perhaps that was why she'd had an unpleasant sleep?

And yet…

Fortunately, the woman had decided to undo her bonds, most likely so she didn't have to be fed her breakfast.

As she rubbed her wrists she decided to venture another question. "Where are we now? This isn't the hospital."

"No, it's not. This is a little place I use for…my out of work hobbies." When she noticed the worried expression on Pyrrha's face, the doctor quickly followed up with "If you're worried about leaving the hospital so soon, then don't worry; Ironwood signed off on this. Just think of it as...immersion therapy, OK?"

"Immersion therapy…" Pyrrha mulled over Dr. Nightengale's answer for a moment. It _sounded_ reasonable enough; the good doctor had mentioned the practice at some point or other, and from what she remembered of it seemed this would be for her benefit. "And..._this_ is where it will happen?"

"As I said, this was somewhat short notice." Then she pat Pyrrha's shoulder, sliding off the bed. "Now you go on and finish up your breakfast; we've got a full day of PT to get to, and you need to keep your strength up." She headed towards the door. "I'll be back with a change of clothes for you," she said, the sound of a lock clicking into place sounding in the mostly empty room.

Pyrrha waited a full minute before she set the tray aside, easing herself out of bed and onto the bare, wooden floor, keeping hold of the bedpost for support.

Something about this whole situation smelled rotten to her; in the short time she'd spend around General Ironwood, he'd never given off the impression that he'd agree to something on as short of notice as Dr. Nightengale had implied; and while the doctor hadn't supplied any reasons why the General would compromise on that, but Pyrrha figured that there probably weren't any. On top of that little discrepancy, her memory was extremely fuzzy for the time between meeting with Ironwood and waking up here. She could vaguely recall heading back to her room, upset about...something, but whether she actually made it back or not eluded her recollection. She didn't have any proof one way or the other, but given the ease with which the medical personnel who tended to her could obtain sedatives, it was likely that she had been knocked out with one of those, if not something similar. (To say nothing about whether or not it was the result of someone's Semblance, an even more terrifying prospect.)

Whatever was the cause could be determined at a later date. For now, Pyrrha needed to figure out exactly where she was, and if that place had the means to contact the General or Miss Schnee for help.

With determination plastered on her face, she set about making her way over to the door to try and get it open. After that...well, she hoped the cerulean-haired woman's hearing wasn't terribly good.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

Subterfuge wasn't necessarily Winter's strong suit. If it were up to her, she'd say that she was more adept with melee combat, able to have precise control of her movements to take advantage of any openings her opponents gave, not to mention her Semblance's ability to summon manifestations of the Grimm she'd slain in her life.

Sneaking through the streets of Mantle wearing a tacky wig and an old trenchcoat in an effort to gather information decidedly _didn't_ fall into that particular skillset. Granted, it wasn't a difficult concept to wrap her mind around, though she still wished the General had given this particular task to Clover instead of her.

He didn't have one of the most famous last names on the planet, for starters.

Regardless, she continued to make her way down the dimly lit road of the warehouse district of the city, trying not to act too out of place as she headed towards the rendezvous point where her contact was supposed to be.

A gentle rain fell as she walked, forcing her to keep the collar of her coat popped up.

_Why does it have to be raining?_ she wondered, _Surely it wouldn't be too complicated to adjust Mantle's heating grid to allow some actual snow to fall once in a while, would it? It would make for a pleasant change of pace, and I wouldn't risk slipping and falling nearly as easily…_

She'd been cautioned against using her Semblance too openly while in her "disguise"; if people didn't recognize her on sight, then they'd probably put two and two together when they saw her use the same abilities that had been displayed during the 40th Vytal Festival.

Eventually, she reached her destination: an old building with the Schnee logo plastered on its side. It most likely used to belong to her father, though now it appeared to have seen better days, its paint chipping in places and its windows opaque with grime.

As per the instructions she'd been given, she leaned on the wall next to the main door, knocking three times in a "casual" manner.

A shifty looking Faunus woman with sharp, tufted ears on her head opened the door a moment later.

"Crickey, you look like a sorry sight out 'ere," she remarked, leaning just far over the threshold to not catch any rain in her silver hair. "Where's your 'brolly'?"

Winter sighed and, reluctantly, responded "...I was robbed by two men. Do you have a spare?" like she'd been instructed.

She was going to murder whoever came up with such a ridiculous password phrase... Faunus nodded. "Ye, in the back," she jerked her thumb behind her, "What say you come in 'afore you catch your death, a'ight?"

Genuinely grateful to be out of the inclement weather, Winter nodded and followed the woman inside, immediately ditching her wig once the door was shut.

The damn thing itched, OK?

"Not your first rodeo, is it?" the Faunus woman asked.

"I tend to deal with things in a more direct manner," Winter responded, brushing her hair out before tying it in a loose ponytail, "Speaking of which, I assume you can help me locate a particular person of interest?"

The Faunus woman nodded. "Ye, if you got the-"

"5000 Lien in advance," Winter interrupted, retrieving an envelope from the inner pocket of her trench coat and holding it out to the other woman, "further compensation for your services can be discussed depending on how useful the information you provide is."

Ever since she was a young girl, Winter was always expected to uphold the values of honor and decency, which had led her to always speak in an honest manner. The woman before her might have figured out her identity- which certainly wasn't a hard task when you were presenting your superior officer's political advertisements- and gave her a scrutinizing look that seemed to last a minute before reaching out and snatching the envelope.

After bothering to confirm that there was in fact as much Lien as Winter said there was, she smiled. "Name's 'Silverfox'. Not the best way to moniker meself, but it gets the job done, right? Anywho, who's the mark?"

Winter handed over a photo of Dr. Nightengale. "This woman has recently abducted a young woman of some import from the facility she was recovering at. Speed is of the essence, of course."

Silverfox raised an eyebrow as she took the photo from her. "...bit weird that a Dokka is hiding ya girl away, but then again, I ain't getting paid to care 'bout that." She headed towards a partition set up in the back of the room. "Want some bev? I got plenty, and finding a lead on your Sheila's probably gonna take a good minute."

...OK, sure.

"It's a tempting offer, but I think I will decline, thank you."

"Eh, suit yeself. Mind the knickers, though; I'm sorta used to livin' on me own, ye see, don't really have company over that often."

…Winter couldn't wait until Pyrrha was safe and sound again.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

As it turned out, Pyrrha was able to get the door open with the butter knife from her breakfast; the lock was old, so she was able to squeeze the knife in between the door and the frame in order to jimmy the lock open.

_Maybe if I get out of this, I should become a spy! _she thought to herself. It was a silly thought, but it was either that, or shiver in fright. Not a terribly difficult choice, all things considered. She didn't hear Carol around, so the woman had probably gone out to get her those clothes. (She _had_ said all of this was on short notice.) That meant she could snoop around and figure out what all this was for.

For starters, this place was more well lit than her room had been, so she could more easily make out the age and faded colors around this place. She couldn't begin to guess exactly how old this building was, but the visible layer of dust and grime on everything told her it was probably a safe guess that she and Dr. Nightengale were the first people in this house in a very long time. Just like the room she'd woken up in, the rest of the place seemed equally devoid of anything decorative.

Otherwise, it seemed like a normal house, albeit an empty one. Which, again, sort of made sense if she'd come here suddenly, but not that this was supposed to be for therapy purposes; there should have been parallel bars and other equipment meant to help her recover like the hospital had, and so far her search had found none.

She'd tried to open the front door once she'd made it that far, but as she feared, it was locked. ...and that was yet another thing that rubbed her wrong about the whole situation; doors were supposed to be locked from the inside normally, with prisons being the exception to that rule.

That thought held dire implications Pyrrha didn't want to think about right now. Plus it was a moot point whether she could leave this building anyways; she had no idea where she was, so she couldn't find her way back to General Ironwood once she escaped her new imprisonments. Acting rashly would probably only get her in deeper trouble, so she started making her way back towards the room she'd woken up in.

As she made it to the top of the stairway she noticed the door between it and "hers", this one more heavily locked than the others she'd seen so far; the padlock the fastened the door to the frame was almost comical in how large it was, though she figured that probably meant it was harder for the average person to break into it.

...but she wasn't average, as she?

"Maybe…" Closing her eyes, Pyrrha began to focus inward, past her physical body and into the realm of the Soul. She held her hand out towards the lock, trying to will the components inside of it to shift open; the accounts of her fighting prowess often spoke of her uncanny ability to avoid getting hit by her opponent's weapons, of seemingly being able to deflect blows without touching them...while the commentators only seemed to speculate, she'd noticed that in all those instances in the recordings that her opponents had been using metal.

Just like the lock was made of.

Perhaps, if she could reactivate her Aura again, she'd be able to reawaken that same power again. It might be a long shot, but she was willing to experiment if it meant she'd be able to leave this place. It wasn't like she was going anywhere else right now, after all.

She opened her eyes again, laser focusing on the lock as she tried to open it.

"Come on…!"

"_Adorable,_" she suddenly heard behind her, "_but I doubt that's going to work."_

Pyrrha then felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck before falling limp to the floor.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_Once again, not dead yet! (Tl;dr: stuff happened and it took a bit to get my writing mojo back.) Not really a lot to say about this chapter just yet; part 2 is in progress and will hopefully follow this one soon._

_I will say that it's been interesting focusing on Pietro and Winter for a bit on their own, since the last time we saw Winter she was giving a pep talk to our favorite invincible cinnamon roll. I may do more of these asides later in the story, since I enjoy exploring how different characters would react in any given situation. Also, it keeps things interesting to read._

_Anywho, stay safe, stay chill, and I'll see y'all next time!_


	7. Found

It had been 2 hours, 33 minutes & 12 seconds since Penny had taken off to begin her patrol of Mantle in search of the missing Pyrrha Nikos.

Unlike most people, Penny's enthusiasm hadn't waned a bit since she'd been told why General Ironwood was putting her on active duty; not only was she able to fly around again (without the bulky jet pack she had back in Vale) but now she was able to see Pyrrha Nikos again and tell her that she bore no ill will for what happened during the Vytal Festival. It was something she wanted to do ever since being reactivated on the way back to Atlas.

"_Any sign of the targets?"_ the General said over the radio.

"Nothing yet, sir; has Specialist Schnee learned where the Doctor took Pyrrha yet?"

"_Her last report said the contact was compiling possible leads. They claimed that they'd have something for us within an hour."_

Penny nodded, then responded with "I see." when she realized the General couldn't see her at the moment. "I do hope Pyrrha is OK," she said, a touch of melancholy in her voice, "it must be hard for someone like her to go through dying and coming back, only for this to happen."

"_...'someone like her'?"_

"You know, human. Humans do not normally come back to life after dying, right?"

Penny could almost swear she heard the General wince on the other end of the connection.

"_That is...usually the case-"_

"I am glad that Pyrrha has a second chance to live," she continued, "I never had a chance to become her friend back then, but now I do! ...I wonder if she would like to talk about cute boys when we find her?"

"_Once she's had a chance to recover and unwind from this experience, you can ask her. For now, continue your patrol; I'll contact you again when there's a concrete lead."_

"Roger that, General Ironwood!" She snapped a salute. "You can count on me!"

Once the connection was cut off, the robot girl activated the scanning suite in her visual cortex and began scanning the ground beneath her. She'd been supplied with both Pyrrha's and Carol Nightengale's biometric data, so she figured she may as well "keep her eyes open" on her patrol in case she got lucky.

For the next 27 minutes, 43 seconds Penny flew around the city, making a note of anywhere that looked "crime likely" for future patrols. Not much of note happened; she didn't run across any crimes in progress, nor did she pick up any signs or her two quarries. Then again, she'd only surveyed the major metropolitan areas so far, and there was still plenty of city left for her to cover yet.

"Hmm...perhaps Pyrrha would rather talk about cute girls instead?" she mused, "I know that her hormonal levels usually increase whenever Friend Jaune was mentioned, but apparently that is not always an indication of someone's sexual preferences. ...I wonder what sort of qualities Pyrrha looks for in a potential partner? Whatever they are, I'm sure we can figure them out togeth-"

A ping on her sensors interrupted her thoughts of girl bonding; multiple figures bearing weapons.

She flew a little closer. ...Faunus traits registered in all members; they also all wore White Fang style masks.

Well, this certainly wouldn't do!

She plotted an intercept course directly ahead of the group, touching down and thrusting her hand out, palm forward.

"Halt, evildoers!" she declared, "Judging by your attire and the fact that you are all carrying weapons, it is clear that you are all up to no good; you are all under arrest!"

_This should only take a few minutes to deal with,_ she reasoned, _then I will return to searching for Pyrrha and her kidnapper!_

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

"To be honest, Pyrrha, I didn't think you'd recover from my Semblance quite as fast as you did," the doctor mused as she carried a now limp Pyrrha into the room she'd been trying to break into, "Granted, I normally don't apply my Anesthesia too strongly; back when I was still a young Huntress I was able to cause a Beringal to fall to its knees, though I quickly learned that my fellow classmates weren't quite as resilient unless I held back." She deposited the red-haired girl onto a chair, making sure to tie her arms down before moving towards a vanity. In any other circumstance, Pyrrha might have been slightly flattered by the photos and memorabilia of herself...or if she could remember more about her past, though that might have also made things even more creepy.

And the creepy factor was pretty high already.

"You've actually been under the effects of my Semblance before, and I mean before bringing you here. I'd assumed that you wouldn't be up and about until I'd brought your new clothes back." The blunette woman took a small, red bottle from the vanity and spritzed some of its contents onto her wrist, then headed back over and held her wrist up to Pyrrha's nose. "What's your honest opinion on this scent? I haven't really had an occasion to wear this before, so I'd like to know if it's worth it."

A faint yet distinct smell wafted up Pyrrha's nose, like raspberries soaked in cheap liquor; her nose scrunched up at the unpleasant odor.

"Not favorable, it seems." The woman withdrew a small case from her pants pocket, swabbing her wrist with a sanitizing wipe. "I suspected as much from the reviews it got, but as I said, I never bothered to open it; not a lot call for perfume in a biology laboratory. A shame...I paid good Lien for it, too…"

"Why am I here?" Pyrrha demanded. Fortunately, the doctor's power hadn't robbed the ability to speak from her. "The last thing I remember is heading back to my room distraught, then waking up here. What did you do to me?"

"Nothing more than I've already said I did," she replied, stuffing the bottle into one of the vanity's drawers. "Some people have been known to have lapses in their memory due to my Semblance, but I sadly haven't been able to determine a cause for that particular symptom." She finally turned back to Pyrrha, staring her directly face-to-face; her previously kind, cheerful expression was nowhere to be found, replaced with a stony visage that belied any insight into her thoughts. "To be honest, I would have preferred to bring you here of your own volition, but thanks to your discussion with Ironwood I felt it was necessary to accelerate the process. My apologies for the suddenness of everything."

"Accelerate the process"?

...was she being brainwashed?

"Oh, don't look so horrified; I merely meant to show you the folly of General Ironwood's intentions for you. Heh...the man still thinking you're 'the key to winning the war' or some such drivel."

"...maybe I am-"

"No, you're not," the woman interrupted before Pyrrha could properly challenge her claim, "the last thing you're meant for is to be a pawn in someone else's machinations." The woman's expression suddenly morphed into the kind and sweet one Pyrrha recalled seeing over the past few months, only this time it held none of the same warmth as it did previously.

"Wouldn't you rather live a normal life without having to worry about fighting other people's battles anymore?~"

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

"...so then, bloody Bruce says to me 'Dun worry, love; no need to get _clucky_ on me'. Daft sod always had a complex about his sheilas actin' the least bit like his mum. Kind of a big manbaby, he was. Y'know?"

It was the fifth such anecdote Silverfox had "volunteered" in the past 45 minutes.

"No, I'm afraid to say I _don't_ know." Winter informed the Faunus, who was currently bent over a rather ramshackle computer setup, "Just as I didn't 'know' about your mother's unfaithfulness to your father, your late brother's drinking problem, your uncle's frankly outlandish criminal past, or your _other _brother's ability to contract new venereal diseases with startling frequency. In fact, I fail to recall ever asking to be informed about your family's various shortcomings."

Silverfox just shrugged.

"I'm a giver. I give."

More list "foist".

_Sigh… _"Just inform me when you've found a feasible lead to the person I'm searching for."

Another shrug. "Eh, suit yeself."

_This had better be worth the effort,_ Winter thought to herself, and not for the first time today. She understood the need for discretion in this operation; news of a martyr's return would bring no end of unwanted attention from just about everyone in Atlas, both good _and_ bad, and the news of such a scandal as said martyr's return would do nothing but hurt the General's bid for his seat on the Council, it to mention that his detractors would immediately leap on the opportunity to point out how he'd put the errant Dr. Nightengale in charge of Pyrrha's wellbeing in the first place.

And yet, despite interacting with the woman several times, Winter couldn't come up with a reason why the woman would abscond with Pyrrha Nikos like she had. Her only clue so far had been the frustration Dr. Nightengale had shown at General Ironwood's desire to move up Pyrrha's combat training. Understandable, considering the timetable the doctor had given for the Mistali girl's recovery, but still an overreaction. Normally the woman was a bit scatterbrained, tending to go off on tangents before being directed back to the main topic of conversation. At least, that was Winter's read on her.

Which was to say nothing of how Pyrrha might be handling this experience. Hopefully she'd be able to keep a level head until they got to her, if what Weiss had written about her held true.

"Ye'r gunna wear a trench on the floor," Silverfox pointed out, not looking up from her monitor. "I just had it polished." That was most certainly an untruth, considering the bevy of empty wrappers and other detritus littered about the space.

Winter decided that arguing the point would only serve to be an exercise in futility and held her tongue.

"I don't suppose you've found any worthwhile information yet?" she decided to ask instead.

"Dunno, possibly." The Faunus woman leaned back in her chair, gesturing broadly to the dimly lit screen. "It's likely your missing Sheilas were using a truck or something to get around, cuz I've got diddly back on the descriptions alone. I'm just waiting for any pings on-" A new window popped up on the screen. "Huh, looks like there's a scuffle near the old housing district."

"How so?" Winter leaned over the Faunus's shoulder, trying to get a better look at the screen.

"By the looks of things, there's some schoolgirl throwing down with a bunch of Faunus punks with guns. Some rich brat stickin' their nose where it don't belong, I'd wager."

_Or, more likely, Penny ran into some trouble on her patrol._

"Also, it seems someone took a van by there not too long ago."

Winter had a sneaking suspicion she knew where this was headed. Still, better to be safe than sorry. "And how is _that_ significant?" she asked.

"Cuz most of that area is condemned," Silverfox informed her, "has been for years, so it's a good place for squatters 'n ner-do-wells to hole up for a while."

It was worth investigating, at the very least.

Without waiting for the information gatherer to continue, Winter took out her Scroll, opening a line to Ironwood.

"General, I believe we finally have a lead that looks promising."

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

Pyrrha Nikos was not a fool. Despite her active memory only going back not even ten weeks, something inside her told her that she wouldn't get very far against Carol Nightengale if she tried to fight in her current condition. Even without her legs fully recovered, the cerulean-haired doctor's Semblance would make it very difficult for her to ever overpower the woman. Even forgetting that the woman was a former Huntress (or at least was trained as one) those factors alone would make it incredibly difficult to overpower her, so for the moment Pyrrha decided to bide her time, playing along with the woman's...frankly disturbing mother/daughter playacting until she was either rescued or could use the element of surprise to her advantage.

"See? You look beautiful in that, sweetie!"

She was currently sitting in front of a full-length mirror, wearing the school uniform for Atlas Academy: a grey, khaki dress with a pleated skirt over a white, button-up blouse and leggings and a dark grey ascot. It was also perfectly fit to her proportions. ...it was a bit unsettling that Nightengale just _had_ an outfit in her exact size, she wasn't going to lie.

In the end, she decided it was better to not think about it.

"I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if you were the envy of Atlas Academy when you start attending there next month."

"Oh joy…," Pyrrha said mirthlessly. While her captor was evidently a superfan of hers, something inside her cringed at the thought of being the "school celebrity". It wasn't an inherently bad concept, certainly appealing (if ever so slightly selfish), and yet...it felt like she'd hate it for some reason.

If Nightengale was as much of a fan of hers as she appeared, shouldn't she realize what would _actually_ have appealed to her "daughter"?

"Oh! That reminds me; I picked up an angel food cake when I was shopping earlier. I figured we could have it for dessert tonight, since I'm so proud of my special _angel.~_" The older woman squeezed Pyrrha's shoulders briefly, a disturbingly normal smile on her face. "And I made sure to get some ice cream as well, since you seemed to like it so much the other day."

"The other day"...it seemed like an entirely different era now, with how much had happened to her in such a short time.

"Now I want you to promise me that you'll keep your grades up while you're at Atlas Academy. I know it'll be tempting to just put in the minimum effort so you can hang out with your friends, but I trust you to make the right-"

"Please stop."

She'd tried to put up with the uncomfortable playacting, but her patience only lasted for so long, especially when her mind kept going back to why the doctor had a copy of the Atlas Academy uniform in her exact sizes. She was done, and she was putting a stop to the farce.

Almost instantaneously the pleasant expression dropped from Nightengale's face, returning to the chilling blankness that had been there before.

"Why? I was having fun."

"That may be true, but _I'm_ not enjoying this. I haven't been enjoying this role playing, or waking up bound, or being kidnapped like this in the first place! And this fascination you have with treating me like your daughter...I think it's unhealthy. I still don't remember a lot of the details of my old life, but what you're doing feels less like a doting mother and more a stalker acting out some perverse fantasy. You need to get professional help."

"Well, I'm sorry, Pyrrha..." The blue haired woman place her fingers on the back of Pyrrha's neck, a brief but sharp pain causing her muscles to spasm for a moment before she fled to the floor, unable to move her arms or legs. "But I respectfully disagree with your assessment."

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

Things were not going the way she wanted at all.

"I'd really hoped you would be more accommodating, Pyrrha." She scooped the limp girl in her arms and began carrying her la pieta back to her room, "You see, I'm giving you the opportunity to have an easy life, not wanting for anything, not having to worry about what people think of you, about having to cater to the whims of people who just want to use you for their own ends."

Pyrrha groaned, most likely from her Anesthesia.

"You see, Pyrrha, I've always been rather fond of you." Not really new information, but hey, no reason not to remind the girl about it. "I remember when you first appeared onto the tournament scene, quickly becoming a rising star, and I knew you were something special." She paused to reach down and open the door, pushing through it with her back. "Needless to say, I was rather distraught when I'd heard about what happened to you at Beacon Academy; it was like losing my own daughter, in a way. I've never actually been married, mind, or had children of my own." She kicked the door closed.

"All this to say, when the General came to me about working on a way to revive you, I leaped at the chance, and I don't regret anything."

She laid the girl down on her bed, forming her mouth into a practiced smile. "After all, I get to live with my idol.~"

Throughout all of this Pyrrha had staunchly avoided making eye contact with her, which was more than a little disappointing. Here she was, trying her best to make Pyrrha feel happy and giving her nice things to wear (normal girls were all about trying on clothes, right?). Granted, she didn't have time to actually make that angel food cake she'd mentioned, so maybe Pyrrha was just one of those people who got "hangry"?

Still, she felt a little hurt that Pyrrha was spurning all her affection.

"Pyrrha…? What's wrong; you know you can talk to me."

For a moment the girl said nothing.

"...I don't want to repeat myself."

"Now now, is that any way to treat your-"

A noise that sounded like shattering wood prevented her from finishing her thought.

"..." She quickly began fastening the bindings to Pyrrha's wrists and ankles, before hurrying out of the room to investigate what had caused the noise.

Of all the things she'd been expecting, a frackle-faced, redheaded girl wasn't one of them.

"Sal-u-taions, Dr. Nightengale! I am relieved to have finally found you, and I'm sure I will be even more relieved if Pyrrha Nikos is still in good health."

Blink.

Blink.

...she could work with this.

"Well, I think you'll be quite pleased; she's perfectly alive and well, but she's resting right now. She doesn't want to be distrubed."

The girl's oddly cheerful expression fell.

"Oh, that is a shame; I was hoping to verify her wellbeing. And also…" She poked her fingers together. "...I wish to let her know that what happened in the Vytal Festival was not her fault." She glanced up at Nightengale with wide, shimmering, almost glass-like eyes. "...would that be alright?"

She smiled. "I don't know about that apology, but if it will satisfy you, you can at least see her." She held a hand out, ready to give the girl a dose of her Semblance. "Is that alright?"

The girl tapped the side of her head, before deciding "Yes, that will be most acceptable!" Then she eagerly trotted over and took the proffered hand.

Nightengale immediately sent her Semblance coursing through the girl, strong enough to instantly knock her out.

"...is there any particular reason why we are not heading to see Pyrrha?" the girl asked, blinking curiously.

...what?

She tried again, to the exact same result.

Namely: nothing.

"..._who are you_?" she asked. In all her years she'd never come across another organic being who could resist her Semblance- all the experiments had basically proven that- so how could this girl? Did she have a Semblance of her own that was able to nullify her Anesthesia?

"My name is Penny Polendina; it is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Nightengale! Are you going to take me to where Pyrrha is now?"

"You shouldn't be conscious right now," she stated, ignoring the girl's question, "I just use my Semblance on you…"

"Oh, really?" The girl, "Penny", took a moment to look herself over. "...I did not notice."

If she weren't so flabbergasted at this impossible phenomenon, she would have tried to subdue the girl through more traditional means, as out of practice with close-quarters combat as she was.

"However, I do not appreciate you attempting to attack me like that." Without warning Penny swept her leg, knocking the older, taller woman off balance. She fell to the ground, and Penny quickly proceeded to put the woman in an arm lock. "You are under arrest for the kidnapping of Pyrrha Nikos, stealing military property, and for attempted assault on a duly registered public defender!" She bound the doctor's hands tightly with some kind of cable. "Now, would you please be so kind as to tell me where Pyrrha Nikos is?"

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

Ironwood stood outside of the abandoned house that the "good doctor" had chosen to hide in. While he had several words in store for Nightengale about the stunt she pulled, they would have to wait for the moment; Pyrrha was sitting in the back of a squad car, a cup of steaming coffee in her hands and his overcoat draped over her shoulders, and right now her wellbeing was tantamount.

"How are you holding up?" he asked, kneeling by the car window, "I can't imagine the doctor put you through a pleasant experience."

Pyrrha nodded. "It was...not enjoyable."

"Understandable. I can provide a councilor if you wish to talk about the experience."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

He nodded back, then stood up and headed over to the paddy wagon where Winter Schnee and Penny were depositing the errant Doctor.

As was the custom, she snapped a salute upon his approach. Penny didn't make the gesture, but she was busy keeping Nightengale secure, so she wasn't obligated to follow protocol as stringently.

"Sir."

"At ease, Specialist." He glanced into the back of the van. "...I can't help but feel some small measure of guilt for allowing that woman to get away with this."

"None of us could have known, sir. If anything, I interacted with her more regularly than you did; I should have picked up on what she was planning."

"Why don't we just agree that she pulled the wool over _all_ our eyes, ok?"

"Very well, if you say so, Sir."

"I do."

At this point Penny came over and closed the van doors, but not before cheerfully stating "Mission successful, General!" first.

"Anyway," he said, "people are definitely going to start asking questions about this. I am _not_ looking forward to the inevitable press conference…"

"I feel for you, sir. ...I may have a way to turn something positive out of this whole fiasco, if that's alright?"

He sighed. "Very well; what's your idea?"

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_Phew! Man, I'm glad I finally wrapped this bit up; now I can move on to other concepts I want to explore with this premise of Pyrrha coming back to life. And hey, I'd love some suggestions from my readership as well! Just keep in mind that this is taking place before the events of Volume 7, so Pyrrha isn't going to meet up with Teams RWBY & RNJ just yet._

_In the meantime, stay safe, stay healthy, and I'll see you in the next chapter._


	8. The Press

Pyrrha didn't think she'd be as nervous as she was right now. She was apparently no stranger to public appearances, given the recordings she'd been shown; there'd been interviews, footage of tournaments, and a couple times where she'd been giving a speech for various occasions. She seemed relatively composed in each of these instances, with nary an involuntary shudder to be seen.

Now, while she wasn't shivering in fright, the thought of going out in front of a bunch of reporters filled her with a sense of nervousness she wasn't familiar with; she hadn't even felt this way when Dr. Nightengale had tried to kidnap her, as weird as that was to think about. She sat in just inside Ironwood's military hospital at a makeshift vanity that had been set up, a pair of students from Atlas Academy helping do her have and makeup.

"You know, I'm _really_ glad the rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated," the orange headed Faunus girl remarked, tickling Pyrrha's cheek with some blush, "I never really got to see you much during the Vytal Festival- you know, what with the Grimm attacking and everything- but now we've got all the time in the world to hang out! We can paint our nails, and try on clothes, and talk about cute boys- _Nya!?_"

The girl was suddenly "floating" in midair, suspended by the hood of her hoodie from the hand of her much taller companion.

"Maybe let the poor girl get through this first before you start planning the sleepover, huh, Neon?" He gave "Neon" a knowing look past the half-shades he wore."I'm sure she has a lot on her mind."

"I _guess_…," she pouted, her cat-like tail flicking in annoyance.

"Sorry about Neon here," he said to Pyrrha, "I know she seems like a little much, but she's a good egg once you get used to her."

"I'm sure she is," Pyrrha smiled, debating whether or not she should point out how Neon was currently trying to claw "Flynt's" eyes out.

...he didn't seem to actually mind, though…

"So, are you ready to go out there and reintroduce yourself to your adoring public?" Flynt asked, setting Neon back onto the floor.

...Pyrrha really didn't know how she felt about that. On one hand, there was something exciting about finally being able to properly go out into the world again. She'd been cooped up for the past few months, only getting brief surjourns out of the very clinical building she lived in (her failed kidnapping not wothstanding), and she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't getting a bit of cabin fever. Now though, she was ready to actually go out into the world and properly start her new life.

Yet on the other hand...she had no idea what to expect from this. She still recalled many broad details about what the world was like, but barely anything more personal. She knew that people had been affected by her absence, and they'd no doubt be elated to learn that she was alright. They'd want to know all about what happened to her, and she'd most likely become an international celebrity all over again...a prospect she surprisingly wasn't eager to repeat. Nothing about that kind of attention appealed to her; she'd had plenty of time to think over the past few days, and after her recent "experience" she honestly would rather just go spend some time on a remote island and ease back into the world at her own pace.

However...that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

"I'm not really sure...I suppose that I'll find out soon, won't I?" She tried to flash a reassuring smile to her two companions, though she had a feeling she wasn't succeeding if the perplexed looks on their faces were anything to go by.

"Well, in any case," Neon said, giving the redhead a friendly pat on the shoulder, "you're the Invincible Girl; you'll do fine! ...well, I mean, maybe you're not _as_ 'invincible' as you used to be nowadays, considering- ...I'll shut up now…"

The cat Faunus once again withered under Flynt's gaze.

"Anyway, do you need any more help?" the young Huntsman asked, "We don't really have much else going on today, since Kobalt and Ivori are off doing '_nerd stuff_', so you and Katt here can plan your sleepover and stuff."

She looked back at the mirror that had been set up, looking over her reflection. Emerald green eyes stared back at her, asking her what she wanted to do going forward. Her vibrant red hair hung loose down her back, a strand of her bangs falling between her inquisitive eyes. Something in the very back of her mind seemed to tell her that she should recognize that person...and yet, she still couldn't remember back before she'd woken up in that weird coffin; she had no clue who she was supposed to be.

...and to be honest, that stray bang was annoying her something fierce.

"Could one of you pass me the scissors?"

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

"...as a result, I will personally be reviewing and revising the screening protocols for all positions of importance, both military and military adjacent. Next question?"

All at once, a veritable sea of hands shot into the air, accompanied by the voices of the 20 to 30 reporters that had gathered.

Only years of practice kept him from visibly sighing at the gossip hounds that stood before the platform. (Also, the fact that the microphones were still live helped as well.)

"Yes, over there?" he said, gesturing to a woman in an old fashioned tweed cap and a heavy looking green winter coat.

"Phylis Greenly, _Voice of Vacuo_," the woman's slightly accented voice cut over the General din of the crowd. "Do have any idea _why_ Dr. Nightengale would try to abduct someone under her care like she did?"

Ah; he figured this question would come up sooner or later.

"At the moment, we only have baseless speculation as to why Carol Nightengale did what she did. Hopefully, once a trained psychoanalyst is able to speak with her, we'll have a better idea of why this happened. Of course," he added before more hands could shoot up, "in order to better treat people with similar mental afflictions. ...yes, _The Atlas News Network_?"

Sky Sepia, the iconic reporter from Atlas's own proprietary news network stood up, pen and paper in hand. "Would you mind explaining the young girl people have reported being seen, and I quote…'flying across the night sky like a green bullet'?"

Ironwood sighed. _Well...now was as good a time as any to make this announcement…_

"I'm glad you asked about that, actually." He nodded to Winter, who'd been standing behind him on the podium, and she briefly spoke into her earpiece.

A moment later Penny descended from above, the retrorocket thrusters on her legs slowing her descent until she handed gracefully next to him, still wearing her now signature cheery smile.

"Though why don't we let _her_ answer that?"

"_Sal-u-taions, everyone! My name is Penny!~"_

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

"...which is why Cousin Xandy can't legally hold a driver's license anymore."

"_Truly tragic, luv. Cahn't really blame the victims, tho. Hope the appeal goes through."_

"Eh, not holdin' out hope, realy. Time in the clink'll pro'lly do him some good. 'Nuff about that, you keepin' up with the news?"

"_Off'n on. Why, something interestin' happen?"_

"You bet yer arse it did; yours truly just helped the po-po nab a serial killer.~"

"_Oh, come off it!"_

"No foolin, this crazy doctor kidnapped one of their patients. Pro'lly would've skinned 'er alive if yours truly hadn't hacked the planet to track the bitch down. I know, I'm awesome; feel free to remind me about it at ev'ry turn.~"

"_You don't mean that overly perky Sheila on the tube right now, do ya?"_

"Nah, that's a different one. Though she's kinda how I found the poor sod what got 'erself knicked. See, there was a-"

"_How 'bout the reddy, then?"_

"Eh? What reddy? None of 'em was a reddy except for- ...I'll ring ya back, Ma."

"_Oi! Make it sooner than last time, 'K?"_

"Yeah yeah, sure, wh'evs; what station are you watching?"

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

Just as she'd feared, things had practically turned to pure chaos the moment she'd stepped out into the open; cameras had started flashing, and the reporters had immediately started talking over each other, all trying to be the first to get their questions answered. Expecting it hadn't really lessened the jarring shock of the experience.

Honestly, Pyrrha was considering turning around and just living the rest of her life in secrecy.

"_Everyone, quiet down_!" Ironwood shouted into the microphones. The throng of reporters instantly ceased their questions, and after a moment he addressed them once more. "Everyone will have ample time to ask Miss Nikos questions, provided we exercise the proper restraint and decorum. If you all can agree to that, then I will let Miss Nikos take the mic." He then stepped aside, allowing her to step forward.

"Um…," she said, leaning slightly towards the microphone setup, "...hello again, everyone…" She brushed a stray bit of her now short cropped hair behind her ear, hoping the gentle smile she wore didn't make her look as nervous as she felt. "Um...I suppose I will be answering your questions about me now."

Nearly every hand in the crowd immediately went up.

"...so enthusiastic...well then, how about...you?" She randomly pointed towards one of the many reported in the crowd, a man bright, fuschia hair.

It _might_ have only been because he stood out slightly more than the rest of them did.

"Ashtyn Petals, of the _Herald Press. _I think the public would like to know, first and foremost, how is it that you're still alive? That last Remnant had heard you'd lost your life during the attack on Beacon Academy, so just how exaggerated were the rumors of your demise?"

Pyrrha took a moment to clear her throat, recalling the words she'd practiced beforehand (necessary since she effectively had no memory anymore). "Well...I'm here right now, so…" Some of the crowd got a chuckle out of that. "I may have survived, but my injuries were severe enough that I was basically in a coma until recently. She scanned the crowd and picked one of the people who'd liked her opening line. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Do you still have plans to become a Huntress?" the woman asked without introducing herself.

"Possibly. I still need to make sure I'm recovered well enough to fight first, but I do plan to continue my training at some point." She'd talked about this with Ironwood and Winter over the last couple days, and she agreed that it would be in everyone's best interest for her to be able to defend herself, lest this sort of thing happened again.

"Excuse me!" Another woman broke through to the front of the crowd of reporters, not waiting for Pyrrha to call on her. "Melody White of the _Atlas Beat_; didn't you used to have longer hair?"

For a moment everyone was completely silent; Pyrrha couldn't really tell if that was because the woman had broken some kind of unspoken rule of etiquette, or just by how out of left field the question was. It was one that Pyrrha hadn't really expected people to ask about, at least not immediately.

"Well, Miss White, yes I did."

"What made you decide to change it?"

Pyrrha thought for a moment, thinking back to herself sitting in front of the vanity.

"...I just felt like it," she shrugged. "A lot has happened to me since I reawakened, and I don't really feel like the same person as I used to be anymore. ...I guess this will help remind me of that revelation."

After that the questions came fast and furious, and she did her best to answer them as concisely as she could, in order for all the reporters to have a chance to ask something. She didn't feel quite as nervous after the question about her hair as she had before, and after another forty-five minutes of answering questions about her plans for the thoughts on Penny being an artificial being, did she have anything to say to the people worried about her wellbeing, etc., she announced that she needed to rest.

"You handled yourself very well back there," Ironwood complimented her as they rode back to the hospital, "it seems a part of you still remembers what public speaking is like."

Evidentially...she certainly couldn't think of another explanation for how her nervousness had all but disappeared during the questions.

"Thank you, sir," she smiled.

"Think nothing of it, I had faith in you. And frankly, I'm pleased to hear that you haven't changed your mind about becoming a Huntress; with the world how it is right now, we need as many capable Huntsmen and Huntress as we can get. If possible, I'd like to have you start your re-education as soon as you're able."

"I'd like that as well." She didn't want to be as helpless as she was against Dr. Nightengale again if she could help it. "How soon do you think that will be? If I remember, there was still quite a bit of recovery time before I'd be fit enough for that."

"Normally yes, but there's a way we can give your body a little boost."

Oh?

"Like what?"

"If you'll permit me, I would like to unlock your Aura again." He held a hand out.

She reached out for his hand, then paused. Nightengale's words still hung in her mind, about living a life without worry. Whether or not the woman had her best interests at heart, there was something appealing about having a simple life without the need to worry about fighting the Grimm. She could settle down, find a job, maybe even fall in love and raise a family with someone.

If the nagging thought of all the people she could have helped save but didn't weren't a driving force of motivation saying otherwise, the press conference probably would have gone a lot differently than it had.

Her resolve steeled, she took hold of Ironwood's hand.

"I'm ready."

"Very well, then." Closing his eyes, Ironwood brought his other hand up to the side of her head, resting it just passed her ear. A moment later a silvery, metallic glow surrounded him, followed by a violet one that surrounded her. Then, although he didn't open his mouth, Pyrrha could clearly hear his voice inside her head. "_For it is through our actions that we achieve immortality. Through these, we become a pillar of safety to protect our fellow man, and combat the darkness that threatens us. I release your soul, and by my sword knight thee."_

Both glows faded after he finished, the man hunching forward slightly.

"...congratulations, Pyrrha; you're on your way to becoming a Huntress once again."

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_Congratulations indeed. Pyrrha now has a new look, as well as a functioning Aura; all that's left is for her to relearn how to fight again. ...I wonder who Ironwood will get as her instructor? _

_You'll just have to stay tuned for the next chapter to potentially find that out._

_In other news, I've just started working on a more lighthearted RWBY fic or the Comedy variety. I'll be working on that one at the same time Resurrection. alternating uploads for each story when I completely their respective chapters. (Tl;dr, after this is posted I'll work on the other fic, post the chapter, and work on another chapter of Res. Wash, rinse, repeat.) Hope y'all like the fast-food industry, cuz Team RWBY doesn't have a choice in the matter. XD_

_Anywho, off to go write some more. Stay safe, stay cool, and I'll see you next time._


	9. New Routine

Having your Aura unlocked, Pyrrha found, was almost an underwhelming experience.

At least, the initial act had been less exciting than she'd anticipated, admittedly; during the days that followed she'd begun to notice changes in her body, the greatest being how fast she was healing. Two days after the event, she'd been able to get around most places under her own power. Granted, she still used her wheelchair, but the only times she found herself asking for help was to get over bumps, or up and down stairs. By the time a week had gone by, she'd ended up ditching the wheelchair and used her cane when walking from place to place. Not long after that, she abandoned the cane altogether. This allowed her to finally venture outside of the compound on her own, though not without an escort.

Which was fine, since she'd prefer not getting kidnapped a second time. And it wasn't as though she didn't like her escorts either; Ironwood had introduced her to the Ace Ops shortly after unlocking her Aura, and they were all generally nice people. Clover, the de facto leader, was generally good-natured and personable. Marrow, the newest and youngest member of the team, was jokey and did his best to break the ice and put her at ease. (And if she was being honest, the way his dog tail betrayed his emotions was kind of adorable.) Harriet was a bit snarky, particularly at Marrow's expense, but she didn't seem to have any malicious intent behind it.

Then there were Elm and Vine. Elm was a large, fit woman with a boisterous personality. She often just blurted things out, sometimes apologizing afterward if she'd said something thoughtless. Very well-meaning, if only slightly oblivious to her own strength. (Her arm was still a little sore from their introduction.) By contrast, Vine was much more reserved and deliberate, not really speaking unless what he said had some import to the topic at hand, or it was socially expected that he give a response. He also seemed to carry himself a bit more formally than the rest of the Ace Ops.

...there was just something about those two in particular that tugged at the back of Pyrrha's mind. Sadly, unlocking her Aura did not bring any new memories of her past with it.

"...something on your mind, kiddo?" Elm said, giving Pyrrha a 'light' nudge with her elbow.

"That would be her hat," supplied Vine.

Elm just squinted at him. "...I can't tell if you're joking or not, and that scares me."

Vine merely shrugged. Pyrrha chuckled at the byplay. "It's nothing," she said, "just wishing I could remember more of my past." She then sighed. "I've just almost gotten used to the idea that I won't remember anything more than I already have."

Both her companions remained silent.

"Wow...that's the most depressing thing I've ever heard," Elm stated. "Were you always such a sourpuss, or is this a recent development?" Elm started when Vine used his Semblance to smack her upside the head. "_What?_ I was just curious..."

"I'm sorry," Pyrrha apologized, "I'm not trying to be maudlin, especially when things are actually going in my favor now…apparently I can begin combat training if my recovery prognosis continues like this for another week or so."

"See? That's _great_ news!" Elm proclaimed, "You need more of that in your life. ...not combat training per se; positivity! None of this 'woe is me', doom and gloom attitude. In fact…!" The taller woman effortlessly lifted Pyrrha up onto her shoulder, raising a fist into the air. "You keep this up, and pretty soon you'll be sparkling!"

"Woo…," Vine contributed.

Once again Pyrrha chuckled, thankful for the levity these two provided; after so long being exposed to nothing but doctors (which had sort of worn out its welcome after recent events) the quirky personalities of the Ace Ops were a breath of fresh air in comparison.

"I'll keep that in mind,~" she assured the strongwoman, motioning to be let down.

And Elm was right; barring one notable exception, good things had been happening to her lately. She'd finally awoken from her coma, she'd recovered enough to walk on her own, her Aura had been unlocked, and she was going to start her road to becoming a Huntress once more!

Starting now, she was going to think more positively!

"Ooh!" Elm suddenly exclaimed, "I just had a great thought!"

"We're not mind readers, Elm; what thought did you have?"

"We should get some ice cream! I know a great little shop not too far from here!"

"...didn't we just have lunch before we left on this excursion?"

From here on out, nothing was going to get her down!

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

"...in conclusion, sir, her body's cellular integrity seems to be holding up well," an aide said, passing Ironwood a Scroll with medical information scrolling across the screen. "Unlocking her Aura seems to have had no ill effects so far; it appears Dr. Nightengale's predictions were correct after all. If anything, her body chemistry is even more stable than it was before."

"That's good to hear," Ironwood nodded. When he'd first started this project, the initial results had not been promising: unviable samples, high upfront costs, lack of experts in the field of cloning, and a couple of times where he'd had to debate the merits of a 'trial and error' style approach to this whole endeavor. It had been a small miracle that he'd found Carol Nightengale, though once she was on board things managed to progress up to the point where a viable, artificially grown human body was able to be produced. "See that I'm informed if anything changes in that regard."

"Of course, General. ...um, General...may I ask you something?"

"Go ahead," he allowed, reaching for his flask. "What is it?"

"Well…" The man rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "...it's sort of about Pyrrha…"

"What about her?"

The aide gulped audibly before continuing. "Well, you see...are we ever going to tell Pyrrha she's a clone? That sort of seems like something we shouldn't be keeping from her...you know?"

_Sigh_…

"Answer something for me first," he said, "How long have you been assigned to Pyrrha Nikos's care?"

The aide thought for a moment. "...about two weeks now, sir."

"I see. Well, the fact of the matter is that Miss Nikos, and Remnant at large, simply don't need to know the exact detail of her rebirth. And that's not even taking into account security for information regarding the resurrection process, or public opinion on this kind of thing, or even Miss Nikos's own mental state." Ironwood took a sip from his flask. "You're free to take your pick from any of those reasons."

"Yes...I see, sir. ..._will_ you ever tell her?"

"That's none of your concern," the general rebutted, "Your job is to monitor Pyrrha Nikos's physical health and whether or not her body is in any danger of breaking down. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Very well. If there's nothing else regarding Miss Nikos's condition, then you're dismissed." The aide nodded and headed off on his way, leaving the General alone in his office.

Once he was alone again, Ironwood sighed. In the beginning he'd been perfectly content to let Pyrrha believe she'd just been in a coma since the attack on Beacon. After all, he was somewhat at fault for her being involved in that whole mess like she was; why add more for the girl to worry about?

However, the more he thought about it, was he really doing her a favor keeping her ignorant of the fact that she wasn't the original Pyrrha Nikos, at least physically? She seemed more or less content with how things were now, barring an obvious frustration with her 'amnesia', so would it really be worth it to rip that happiness away from her?

He couldn't even imagine how she'd respond to being told something like that…

He couldn't tell how long he'd been lost in thought before Winter appeared in his office doorway.

"What is it, Specialist?" he asked, putting his flask back in his coat pocket.

"You asked me to inform you when the Ace Ops returned with Pyrrha," she said, "Everything is set up as you requested."

"Alright." He stood up. "Have them meet me in the training room."

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

"Try to keep up, would you?" Harriet shot back to Marrow, who was hauling a bevy of shopping bags towards the back of the group. "Just think of it as the Manticore mission again."

"We nearly froze to death on that mission!" the Faunus man griped, "How is that a good comparison?"

"Because _you_-" Harriet spun around and pointed at Marrow, "-chose to accompany us girls, and girls like to go shopping. Not my fault you skipped Arm Day."

"You _did_ volunteer," Pyrrha supplied, looking more apologetic than her companion did at the moment. "I really appreciate it, though; my arm is still a little sore from shaking hands with Miss Elm the other day…"

"See, I get why _you _aren't carrying your own bags...," he acknowledged, before turning to pout at his fellow Ace Op, "but did you _really_ have to have to get so many shoes, Hare? Not all of us have the equivalent of your Fast Knuckles, you know…" He then proceeded to whimper and shine like a dog, his bushy tail hanging limp behind him.

It was...kind of adorable.

Harriet's expression changed from smug to angry in the blink of an eye. "What did I tell you about pulling that 'sad puppy' shit again? I _will _punch you, and not a love tap like last time…!"

"_I nearly fell off a cliff!"_

"Like I said, a love tap.~"

"Can it, lovers," Clover called to them a little ways down the hall. He approached them with an easy stride, "save it for when you're off duty." As both members of the squad sputtered protestations to their leader's jibe, he turned his attention to Pyrrha. "I take it you enjoyed yourself today?"

"Mhmm," she nodded, "I did. Miss Bree has been very helpful in catching me up on the latest fashions."

"Miss Bree" was currently grinding her knuckles into the top of Marrow's head.

"Anyway, how have you been, Mr. Ebi?"

"Look could you just call me 'Clover'?" he pleaded, "Calling me 'mister' makes me feel older than I actually am."

"I'm sorry…" She hung her head. "I was merely trying to be polite…"

"I get that, but it's fine if you use my first name in a casual setting, I insist."

"...very well, I'll try to keep that in mind."

"Much appreciated." He gave her a pat on the shoulder, then briefly turned to address his teammates once more. "Hey, go out the young lady's stuff in her room and get back to your posts; we're not getting paid to stand around and flirt." Marrow gave a squeak while Harriet blew a raspberry in Clover's direction before they both complied with the order. "As to your question, I'm doing fine. Actually, I was wondering if you could accompany me to go see the General, if you don't mind?"

"Oh?" That was a bit odd; she'd just had brunch with General Ironwood and Winter Schnee the other day. And sure, they'd made plans to do it again, but not quite this soon.

If she didn't know any better, she might suspect the older man might be trying to woo her.

Flattering, yes, but she wasn't about to jump into a relationship like that with an older man.

"...yeah, he said you might react like this. Don't worry, I can assure you nothing's wrong. Apparently, the General wants to evaluate your inherent combat abilities." He held a hand out to her. "It shouldn't take too long."

Right, combat...they'd talked about that over brunch. More accurately, she'd expressed her doubts about ever being at the same level of prowess that she used to. She still wanted to become a Huntress again, that desire hadn't changed, but she'd cautioned Ironwood that it might take a while to reach the level of skill she'd shown previously.

"Alright," she took Clover's hand, "no time like the present, right?"

"Right, indeed."

The Ace Op leader led Pyrrha out of the hospital and headed towards Atlas Academy, which bustled with students going to and fro. They mostly paid Pyrrha little mind, evidently more focused on their studies than the visitor to their school, which was fine for now: she wasn't ready for another Q&A session right now.

She did pass by Neon and her team again (this time with the full four members present) at one point and waved at them. The last of them she was before heading around a corner was Flynt holding onto Neon by her collar as the Faunus girl tried to break free and follow after them.

Once they arrived at what she assumed to be a training area Clover held the door open, allowing her to head inside first.

"Welcome to Atlas Academy, Miss Nikos."

Inside stood General Ironwood, surprisingly not in his typical uniform; he wore khakis and a tank top, as though he were in basic training.

"Hello again, General...I understand you wanted to evaluate my combat prowess?"

"That is correct." He tapped his Scroll a couple of times, the room shifting around and changing how it was arranged until it looked like a long hallway. "To start with, I'd like to run you through some basic training so I can determine how to tailor the rest of your retraining." Then he tapped again and a locker rose for the floor, which opened to reveal a small array of guns. "Select which one feels natural to you, then shoot each target."

_to be continued…_

__/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_

_Cutting this off here because I need to figure out Pyrrha's baseline prowess, since there will be instances of combat later, and I want to briefly show the journey of her training. _

_Also, how'd y'all like the Ace Ops? They'll definitely show up again after this, and the more knowledgable about RWBY might be able to figure out how. First time really writing them, so lemme know what you thought down in the reviews._

_Anywho, my next update will be Chapter 2 of Burger Maidens, my new RWBY humor fic, so go check that one out if you want a chuckle. And be sure to give "Paradigm of a Rose" by AManwithaB0x. I beta read for that fic, and we'd both love some feedback on how it's going so far. _

_In the meantime: stay safe, stay healthy, and I'll see you next chapter._


	10. New Routine 2

Instead of normal guns, these weapons were configured to fire low yield energy projectiles, which Ironwood explained explicitly so there wouldn't be any fatalities during training routines. Pyrrha eventually chose a carbine rifle, and after a brief explanation about how it operated she braced it against her shoulder, waiting for the signal from the General.

"Just hit as many targets as you can in the next sixty seconds," he instructed, and initiated the program. Circular targets began to rise from the floor, some hovering in place while others began to move from side to side, or even up and down. "Begin."

Her first shot had a bit more of a kick to it than she was expecting, which threw her aim off and caused the shot to go wide and miss its target, hitting the far wall instead; the green-tinted blast dissipated upon impact, leaving no visible trace of what happened.

_OK, that's good to know…_ She fired again, this time expecting the kickback. This shot actually managed to hit one of the targets, although it impacted on the edge of it instead of in the middle like she was aiming for. No matter, she would just take the time to aim before taking her next shot. Simple and easy.

A short time later Ironwood announced "Weapons down!", signaling that the time was up.

She let the gun hang at her side, letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "How did I do?" she asked. Trust be told, she hadn't really been counting how many shots she'd actually taken; it had been something of a small thrill being able to fire a weapon, and she'd gotten into it being too long had passed. (A holdover from her past life, maybe?)

Ironwood regarded his Scroll before he answered. "Out of the 24 shots you took, only 6 of them were actually on target."

...that meant only 1 out of ever 6 shots she fired had been accurate.

She'd thought more of them had made their marks…

"I see…"

"We'll work on that in due time," he said, the arena shifting and changing as he tapped on his Scroll. "Now, we'll test your reflexes."

A moment later a squad of 4 Atlesian Knights marched out and stood in a row, the environment settling down. Each robot held a baton in their left hands and a small shield in their right. Ironwood tapped his screen once more, and a robot stepped forward, coming to a stop directly in front of Pyrrha and adopting a combat stance.

"Defend yourself from the assailant, and subdue them if possible."

Without warning the droid launched itself at her, giving her only a moment to leap out of the way.

This wasn't what she'd imagined being 'evaluated' would look like!

But, there must be a reason for this, so there wasn't really any sense in complaining; that seemed like a good way to distract herself and end up back in the hospital, so instead she focused her gaze on the machine and waited to see what it did.

Its head turned to face towards her as it righted itself and proceeded to come towards her again, baton raised. This time, she was ready for it. It swung at her from the left. No surprise there; she leaned to the side, rolling out of the way of the strike. Once on her feet again, she attempted to push the machine over, only to be met with more resistance than she expected. ...OK, that wasn't going to work. She quickly put some distance between herself and the bot in order to give herself a few second to-

OOF! A sharp pain erupted from the middle of her back, sending her falling forward, a tingling sensation lingering afterwards.

"Be mindful of your surrounding," the General cautioned, "Always be prepared for the unexpected to happen."

"..." _All part of the test…_, she reminded herself, getting back on her feet.

A second robot had joined the first, and both were advancing on her. Her task just doubled.

She ducked out of the way of the attacks, this time trying to kick one of their batons from their hands. Hopefully, if she could get one of their weapons she'd have a better chance of beating them. One of the shields wouldn't be too bad either; she suspected the batons had some kind of stun charge in them, if that hit she took was any indication, so best to avoid that if possible.

...something about the thought of fighting with a shield in one hand just seemed right to her.

Her insight proved correct as her kick knocked the stun baton from the robot's hand, and she immediately dove for the weapon before its original owner could retrieve it. Then she immediately swung at the bot, managing to hit it in its center mass. It jerked around for a couple seconds, then slumped forward onto the floor.

Well...that turned out better than she expected. Pyrrha took the shield in her other hand and turned to face the remaining bot, keeping the shield between her and it.

Apparently she must have done something right because the remaining two robots moved in to join the first, then all three began moving towards her.

_It's for a good cause...I hope..._

As the three machines proceeded to attack her, she dodged and ducked out of the way, counterattacking when she could. To her utter shock and amazement, Pyrrha found that she was doing a lot better at this than she'd expected to. As far as she could tell, none of her previous knowledge or experiences had lingered in her memory, yet she was able to keep from getting hit by the robots despite being outnumbered 3-1. She couldn't help but feel a bit of pride at the situation, though it only lasted a moment before she refocused her attention on her trifecta of opponents; she'd have plenty of time to feel proud of herself once this exercise was over.

Ironwood hadn't really said anything after his bit of advice before, which was probably for the best; trying to focus on his words while also dealing with three robots at the same time seemed a bit more than she could handle right now. Thankfully, he seemed to be making notes on his Scroll, so she was free to focus on the goal he'd set for her.

So far, the bots had all attacked the exact same way each time, so it was just a simple matter of timing out how long their attacks took, then striking before the pattern could repeat itself. Easy.

The first robot made its attack. Pyrrha moved out of the way, thrusting her baton into its chassis and dropping it to the ground. She moved to the side, avoiding an attack from the other two before moving in to disable the next one.

...only for it to parry her strike with its shield, its buddy landing a strike on her upper arm.

It managed to completely break the rhythm she'd been getting into, and before long she was lying on the floor, panting as the remaining robots backoff.

"My apologies," Ironwood said, offering her a hand up, "but on the battlefield, making assumptions could potentially be fatal. A huntress must always be ready to adapt to any sudden changes that happen."

That did make sense, even if she were a little sore due to the lesson. She nodded to let him know that she understood.

"So...did I pass?" she asked. It would be nice to know that she didn't just go through all this for nothing, after all.

"That wasn't really the point of the test," the General explained, "I've already agreed to train you, that was never in question. The point of this exercise was to ascertain your current level of skill so we can determine how best to cater to your curriculum." He reset the arena, the vast room returning to its original empty state. "...you're not to sore, are you?"

"No," she shook her head, "I'll be fine." For the moment, anyway. She suspected that once the adrenaline had run its course through her system she'd be singing a different tune. "Is there anything else, sir?"

"Not today, no." He moved to the door and held it open, gesturing for her to go by. "If you'll permit me, I'll escort you back to your quarters."

Ooh, how gallant!~

"You have my permission, General," Pyrrha said, doing a small curtsy, "I would be honored by your presence."

She couldn't help but giggle a bit at her brief bit of byplay.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

"Ladies…" Robyn Hill regarded each of the women sitting around the table in their campaign headquarters, looking each of them in the eyes in turn, "...I think Ironwood might have this election in the bag."

As expected, there was a collective groan at her statement.

"I mean...maybe this won't be so bad?" Fiona Thyme said, shrugging, "So what if he managed to revive an international celebrity, and also rescued her from some crazy doctor, and used a cute robo-girl to help look for her, and yeah, we're screwed…" The sheep Faunus let her head fall onto the table, an audible "Thunk!" sounding through the room.

"Are we _really _sure she's the same Pyrrha?" another of the women, May, asked, "I know the CCT was busted and news from the other Kingdoms wasn't exactly easy to get and everything, but I could have sworn hearing that she lost her life during that assault on Beacon Academy, right?"

"Apparently she didn't," Robyn said, "Which is all well and good, but from where I stand, I'm effectively out of the race for the Council seat." She leaned back in her chair. "I'm open to suggestions."

The third woman, Joanna, had a wicked smile on her face as she slammed her fist down on the table. "We start a smear campaign! I mean, it's not like our opponents aren't easy targets: a professional soldier and a sleazy businessman. It's like they were practically gift wrapped for us to-"

"It won't work," Robyn interjected, "For starters, do any of us have any sources to get the dirt we'd need?" When none of her Happy Huntresses spoke up, she continued. "...exactly. Apart from that, Ironwood is basically the hero of the hour, so if any attempt by us to make him look bad will only seem like a petty attempt to get ahead in the election- which it is," she added before any of the Huntresses could protest, "Likewise, as easy it would probably be to obtain the info we'd need to discredit Jacques, he also has barrels of Lien and an army of lawyers on his side; we'd be crushed financially, not to mention he could run a counter smear campaign against us and basically get away with it scot-free."

The mood in the room visibly shifted even sourer than it already was.

"...we could always play up our namesake," May suggested, "We're the 'Happy _Huntresses_' after all, so let's go out and help some people! Actually, I just heard about this shipment of what's probably Dust that the military is delivering to-"

"We're not robbing the military, May."

"Oh come on, this is _perfect_! We just 'happen' to find a surplus of Dust that can find its way back into the hands of people who actually need it!"

"That would only make us look like crooks. I've said many times that I want to win this election legitimately and despite our current citation, that hasn't changed."

"...the SDC, then?"

"Wouldn't that just make us look like the White Fang?" Fiona pointed out. "And _nobody_ likes those guys!" She slumped forward, her arms stretched out in front of her. "Why can't we just all be friends? Then we wouldn't be talking about smear campaigns and this election would just be over already…!"

"...say that again," Robyn prompted, now leaning forward with interest.

Fiona looked up at the rest of them, slightly confused. "Um...which part?"

"The first part."

"...why can't we all be friends?"

Robyn clapped her hands once. "That's it! It's so simple, I can't believe none of us thought of it already…!" She chuckled to herself, then explained once she noticed the other two's expressions mimicked Fiona's. "What's the biggest piece of news that everyone's talking about right now?"

"Easy," Joanna spoke up, "The Invincible Girl's miraculous recovery."

"Correct. And who's milking that fact right now?"

Robyn felt a surge of pride as the light of realization dawn in her Huntresses.

She continued, "Since her rescue, Ironwood's been basically untouchable in the public's eyes. Hell, not even Jacques Schnee has tried to pull anything, though that's probably only a matter of time. Regardless, it's clear the Pyrrha Nikos still has fans, and that kind of devotion is a powerful tool when used right."

"...so," May said, "what you're saying is…?"

"What I'm saying is that, right now, Pyrrha will probably throw her support behind Ironwood and his bid for the Council seat." The blonde-haired woman stood up. "Hopefully, we can change her mind before my opponents realize this fact."

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_Welp, I guess we have something of a plot for the next part of the story. Hopefully, Pyrrha can navigate through the mires of politics in Atlas. (Speaking of, did I do OK with Robyn and hers? first time writing for them, so I'd appreciate the feedback.)_

_Anyway, I'll be updating "Burger Mistresses" next, so stay tuned for that. Follow this one if your interested in where this is going, Favorite if you just wanna let me know you liked it, and leave a Review if you're feeling articulate.  
_

_So until next time, stay safe out there, and be Excellent to each other. (I'm low key excited for the new Bill & Ted movie.)_


	11. The Man

Pyrrha was beginning to settle into her new accommodations at Atlas Academy. While a bit Spartan in its decorations, it was still a nice change of pace from the hospital room she'd been living in for months at this point. (Seriously, if she ever saw off-white walls and linoleum floors again, it'd be too soon!) She was currently laying on her new bed, her arms and legs spread out on the bed sheets; it was now a few days removed from her evaluation with General Ironwood, and her limbs no longer felt sore from the experience.

"Ahhhh…!" she sighed, enjoying the feeling of her new sheets, "I think I could get used to this…~"

She was busy imagining she was resting on a bed of clouds when there was a knock on her door.

"_Yo, Invincible Girl, you in there? I've got a makeover with your name on it, but it's not gonna be fresh forever…!~"_

Apparently, it was Neon Katt.

"Just give me a second!" she called, picking herself up off the heavenly comforter to answer the door. To no one's surprise, the energetic Faunus girl proceeded to embrace her the moment Pyrrha opened the door. "Oh! Hello again, Neon."

"Hello yourself!" The Faunus quickly detached herself from Pyrrha's torso, then reached into the hall to retrieve a knapsack, holding it up enticingly in front of her. "Sooooo...who's ready to look fabulous?"

"...I guess I am?"

"Perfect!" She dumped the knapsack's contents onto Pyrrha's bed, quickly arranging them into a makeshift salon. "If you'll just step into my parlor, Milady?"

Pyrrha smiled, sitting beside her bed. She didn't know if she'd keep any of the alterations the spunky redhead would make, but simply spending time with someone around her own age made the experience worth having.

Neon decided to begin by giving Pyrrha's hair a good brushing. "So," she said, gliding the brush through Pyrrha's brilliant red hair, "how's it feel to finally be back in the spotlight after all this time?"

"...to be honest, I'm not sure." Pyrrha mused, "I mean...I suppose it's kind of nice to be the center of attention...though I don't think I would care for that 24/7."

"Yeah, I guess that's fair; it'd probably get pretty boring just giving the same answers over and over again, going to the same events, meeting the same people you don't know…"

Whether she knew it or not, Neon had struck something in Pyrrha, something that seemed to come right from her soul, like the girl was repeating something Pyrrha already knew to be gospel truth. Another product of her past life, no doubt, as she couldn't quantify the feeling any more than just something she knew to be true.

"...Pyrrha?"

She must have gotten lost in thought, since Neon's voice felt like it snapped her out of some kind of fugue state.

"Oh...sorry… I was...thinking about things. Did I miss something you said?"

"Not really," the Faunus shook her head, "you just looked really intense all of a sudden, like you were trying to figure out why you were here or something." Somehow, Neon hit the nail on the head a second time. "...you wanna talk about it?"

Pyrrha thought for a moment. "...no, I think I'm fine. I appreciate the offer, though."

"Well, I'm always here if you do wanna talk." She leaned in conspiratorially, "Between you and me, things have been kinda boring here ever since we got back from Vale; when you live through an attack on a major city, nothing else really seems as exciting, you know what I mean? I'm just lucky I've got Flynt and the guys to keep me company, cuz otherwise I'd probably _die_ of boredom!"

Both girls burst into chuckles afterward, and the "makeover" continued.

Sometime later there was another knock on the door. While Neon's had been quick and sharp (complimenting the girl's energetic personality), this one sounded more drawn out, like it was specifically trying to get her attention.

"_I have a delivery for Pyrrha Nikos,"_ and man's voice said from the other side of the door, "_courtesy of the Schnee Dust Company."_

"Did you order something?" Neon asked, to which Pyrrha shook her head, the loose bows Neon had affixed there flopping around as she did. She apparently received things from the various sponsors she'd had way back when, but she hadn't gotten any such offers since making herself known to the public again. Still confused as to what this might be, she got to her feet and headed to the door, only slightly apprehensive as she reached for the handle.

Opening the door revealed amount man in a spiffy looking uniform, holding a wide, flat box with an envelope taped to it under his arm.

He held a Scroll out to her. "Please sign for it."

"Of course." She took out her own Scroll and sent her information over. "...I don't think I can tip you, though," she sheepishly admitted, "I don't have any money on me right now…"

"No need, ma'am; the pay for this job is more than enough," he assured her. Once his Scroll beeped in confirmation he handed the box over to Pyrrha, tipping his cap as he said "Have a pleasant day, ma'am!" before he turned and headed off.

It was only then that she noticed his green, scaly tail gently swaying behind him as he walked.

Now she _really _wished that she'd been able to tip him well…

"_Oooooh,_ what is it?" Neon asked, suddenly peeking over Pyrrha's shoulder. Her eyes suddenly went wide, and a cheeky smile morphed onto her face. "You don't have a secret _admirer, _do you?~ _You have to tell me if you do!_"

"If I do," she said, gently pushing the feline Faunus girl back to a respectable distance, "then this is news to me as well." She plucked the card from the box. "But I do know a way we can find out!" She set the box down on the bed, sitting on the edge while inviting Neon to sit next to her. Once they were settled in, she opening the card.

"'Dear Miss Nikos'," she read, "'You are hereby cordially invited to attend a fundraiser tomorrow evening for the relief effort in Vale at the behest of Jacques Schnee. It would do the Kingdom of Atlas a great honor to be graced by your attendance, and even greater if you would speak on behalf of Vale.'"

It was certainly a far cry from a love letter, but flattering nonetheless.

"'Enclosed is a suitable gown to wear'," she continued reading, "'please consider it as a token of friendship, and congratulations on your miraculous recovery. We look forward to your presence. Best regards, The Jacques Schnee Political Committee.'"

Neon whistled appreciatively. "Wow, that's gotta be a hoity-toity shindig Mr. 'Big Cheese' is throwing," she remarked, "NGL, I'm _totes _jealous you got an invitation; Team FNKI never gets invited anywhere…!" She buried her face in Pyrrha's shoulder, her clearly melodramatic sobbing muffled by the fabric of the Atlas t-shirt Pyrrha wore.

Pyrrha pat Neon's head. "Sorry, but this doesn't say anything about being able to bring a plus one…"

Neon mumbled something unintelligible.

"...would you like to see what the dress looks like?" she suggested, her friend's expression instantly switching from depressed to elated in the blink of an eye, her tail twitching in excitement.

She figured Neon would like that.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

People often said that money couldn't buy happiness.

Those people were both stupid and _obviously_ not Jacques Schnee. For that philosophy to work, you had to be poor to begin with. But when you had so much money that you could afford whatever you needed, thus being able to cover up or remove the thing that was making you _un_happy, there was never really to _stay _unhappy. It was a good life, especially when had the connections to make such things happen.

Which, despite his claims, was the primary purpose of this little fundraiser tonight.

"...then I just told the bastard to try running a mine and see how he likes it."

As usual, his audience gave a hearty laugh at the conclusion to his anecdote.

"I know, I know…'how do I continually manage to be so good at what I do while still having a sense of humor'? Well...the answer may very well surprise you-"

He felt some tap on his shoulder.

_Sigh_..._what part of "absolutely no interruptions unless it's important" do these idiots not comprehend?_ he wondered, nonetheless leaning over so whichever of his staff this was could give him the message and get out of his hair so he could promptly ignore it in favor of his duties as host.

…

...oh.

Well, that changes things.

He quickly shooed the servant away and seamlessly continued "-which, I'm afraid, is a tale that will have to wait for another time." Right on cue, the group he was with began pleading with him to stay and continue his story. "There's something I have to attend to which I think everyone here will enjoy." He detached himself from the group and headed off through the throng of guests, quipping politely to any he passed who addressed him first.

He reached the front door of the hall just in time; Pyrrha Nikos was just being admitted inside when he got there.

"Pyrrha Nikos!" he said, walking up to greet her, "It truly is an honor to have such an esteemed and beautiful woman such as yourself grace my estate." He took her hand and brief brought it up to his lips for a kiss. Cheesy, yes, but a little flattery never hurt anyone, and this would pay off in the long run if he continued to play his cards right. "I must say, the dress looks positively stunning on you."

"Thank you! Mr. Schnee…" She blushed like a child being told that their first crush thinks they look pretty.

Not that he'd said anything untrue; she was already an attractive young woman, and the dress he'd sent only served to bring that quality out to the fullest. Accentuating without being revealing, the brown garment hung on one shoulder, traveling across her torso and her leg on the opposite side. A layer of red satin set underneath this filled in the empty space, which could also be seen peeking out from beneath the shoulder strap. In addition to her iconic circlet and neckpiece, she wore a matching set of elbow-length gloves and thigh high stockings, each with bronze detailing at their hems. (He only noticed the stocking because one would pass through the break between the two fabrics of the dress when she walked.

"I am glad you accepted my invitation, despite it being rather short notice," he admitted, "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to where you'll be making your speech so we can get the formalities out of the way." He once again offered his hand to her, which she smiled and accepted.

"Of course, Mr. Schnee. I imagine everyone here is eager to speak with me."

"They will be after your speech; I've purposely kept your invitation a secret. Let me tell you, it never gets old seeing the look on people's faces when you pull the curtain back and show them something they weren't expecting." And also because there was a small chance she wouldn't be here right now, but he kept the pat detail to himself. "And please, call me Jacques; the only people are supposed to call me 'Mr. Schnee' are my employees and the press, and I see the two of us as more like friends."

"I see…"

"Anyway, I take it you have a speech prepared? I'm sure I could have my people come up with something if you don't."

"No, I do," she assured him, "I had some help of my own, so it wasn't any trouble."

"Excellent!" They stopped by the foot of a small stage that had been set up, himself stepping up to the microphone first.

He didn't care what the muckraking tabloids said about him after tonight, what mattered was that people connected him with the Invincible Girl, and thus make them think of him when the polls finally opened.

After all, there was no such thing as bad publicity. How else do you think the SDC said in business for so long?

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

It was..._incredibly_ adorable the way Penny bounced in place as Winter brushed her hair. She didn't actually have any nerve endings on her scalp, so she couldn't technically feel the brush gliding through her hair, not that it mattered; the whole point of this was to perform Friendship Activities with Miss Winter, and that goal was being met in spades.

It was currently the highlight of her day.

"Penny, I get that you're excited...but it really is easier to brush your hair if you could keep a bit more still."

"Oh, of course!" She attempted to deactivate her greater motor functions to comply with Winter's observation. "I'm sorry, but it is just so wonderful that we are performing Friendship Activities together! Thank you for spending the evening with me!"

"Think nothing of it, Penny." Winter pat the android girl's shoulder. "Between this and the alternative, I'd much rather be doing this."

Penny blinked a couple of times, tilting her head. "...what is the alternative?" she asked.

"Well...in this case, the alternative would be to attend a political function my father is hosting." The woman sighed, "The same one Pyrrha was invited to, as a matter of fact."

"Oh! ...is it fun?" While many things had been explained to her since being reactivated, many more were still a mystery to Penny. Politics was one of those things, and no one seemed to have a decisive answer for her about how they worked.

"From a certain point of view, I suppose they are...if you enjoy grandstanding and owing people favors for their support. It's stuffy, and plastic, and leaves one feeling drained afterward."

This was simply _fascinating_!

"And does Pyrrha enjoy these things?"

"Good god, I hope not…" Penny must have had a quizzical expression on her face after that, since Winter then cleared her throat. "I doubt she's the kind of person who enjoys that type of thing, but that's just a reasonable guess on my part; you would have to ask her yourself to know for sure."

"Then I will do so once she returns!" she declared. "Shall we move onto talking about cute boys now?"

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

Pyrrha wished she was talking about cute boys right now. Really, any other subject was preferable to the actual topic of conversation going on right now; another well-to-do businessman was going on about the intricacies of textiles, the jargon freely flowing in his explanation of how the tariffs were impacting the bottom line of exports or something like that.

She at least knew a thing or two about cute boys.

"...and because most of the wool comes from Mistral, production has basically been cut in half. You'd be surprised what the demand for heavy fabrics is when the supply is chokeholded."

Pyrrha nodded, letting the group she'd found herself with handle the conversation.

After she'd made her speech things had more or less plateaued, Jacques Schnee introducing her to his colleagues with the practiced ease of someone who'd _definitely_ done this before. It had been novel at first, but by the sixth instance of the same, empty platitudes the novelty value had been thoroughly worn out.

Winter had more or less warned her of this when she helped her get ready earlier.

She'd been here for about two hours now, and so far the most enjoyable part had been Jacques Schnee greeting her at the door.

"Um," she said, "I'm going to get another drink. If you'll excuse me…?" The speaker gave a dismissive but benign wave in her direction, and she eagerly took the opportunity to break away from the group and make her way over to the refreshments table. She'd had a sip of champagne earlier when Jacques made a toast to a profitable evening, but afterward, she'd stuck to sparkling water.

After looking around to see if anyone was looking in her general direction, she let out a tired sigh.

A moment later her Host made his way over to her. "Ah, Miss Nikos! Are you not enjoying yourself?"

She shook her head. "Not really…," she admitted, "Don't get me wrong, everything here is really nice, it's just…" She tried to think of a way to explain things in a polite way. "...the topics of conversation aren't really the most engaging."

"Was Oldoak going on about his textiles again?" the older man guessed, to which Pyrrha nodded. "Well, he can be a bit of a blowhard, and that's coming from me!" He chuckled at his little joke, "Ha ha...anyway, I had a question I wanted to ask you if I may?"

Oh? Well, it was certainly a change of pace from the empty platitudes she'd been getting all evening.

"Of course, go right ahead."

"Thank you. You see, the Schnee Dust Company provides a great many services not just to Atlas, but to the rest of Remnant as well. Though I'm sure you already know this."

She did- it was hard to forget the SDC's presence in the world- but she simply nodded and let him continue.

"In fact, a lot of things are produced in Atlas that the people of Remnant rely upon. Sadly, there is a trade embargo in place that's preventing myself and other captains of industry from readily supplying the other kingdoms with our wares, but at the moment there isn't really anything I can do about it." He looked sad about it, but Winter had warned her before she left that this man had an agenda.

She'd emphasized that anything Jacques Schnee said was not to be taken at face value.

"That's certainly unfortunate," she noted, "But...I don't see what I can do to change that."

"Well, fortunately, I happen to have a solution," he said, "Now...if I were on the Atlas Council, I could work to drop the embargos and allow the people of Remnant to have better access to things like Dust and other essentials they might not be getting currently. Before you ask, yes, I _am_ still concerned about making money; I'm a businessman, it's what I do. But that doesn't change what I just told you about what I can do if I have a place on the Council." He had an easy smile on his face when he finished with his spiel.

"...so what exactly are you saying?" she asked.

"I'm saying that if I had your support, then it would potentially help me get the votes I'd need to win this election."

She blinked, still not really understanding.

"If you publicly acknowledge that you'll be voting for me, it would go a long way toward encouraging other people to vote for me as well."

Ah, that made sense.

"Of course, you can have some time to think about it," he said, but when all is said and done, I do hope that you'll make the right decision."

_to be continued…_

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_Just to be clear, I don't actually agree with Canon Jacques Schnee's policies or ideology; he's still a cad, but pre-Volume 7 he probably had to put a good face on for the cameras, so this is more or less what I'd imagine that would look like. (And ngl, it was pretty fun and interesting to write as well.)_

_But yeah, this is the first of a 3 chapter set that exposes Pyrrha to each of the three major political candidates in Atlas. We've met the Man now, so why don't we move onto the "Myth" next...?_

_Anyway, I'll be updating Burger Mistresses next, so be on the lookout for that. Follow this story if you don't want to miss updates, leave a Review so I can know what y'all think of my little tale, and as always, stay safe, and be Excellent to each other._


	12. The Myth

Pyrrha ended up staying at the fundraiser for another hour or so before she headed back to Atlas Academy, citing her rejuvenated Huntress training when asked why she wouldn't stay longer. Which was true, though not her main reason for leaving; Jacques Schnee had given her a lot to think about, and that probably wasn't going to happen with high society socialites talking her ear off about nothing.

She didn't think Jacques was being 100% sincere with his promises, at least according to Winter. But even so, there was still a smidgen of truth in what he said. Each Kingdom's respective Council was responsible for a lot of municipal decisions that a lot of people weren't intimately aware of. She was one of those people, as she didn't know exactly how the Council made its decisions, but surely they would want to do their part to help the rest of the world out, right? It was either that or let the Creatures of Grimm overrun everything.

In any case, she wasn't about to throw her proverbial hat into the ring with Jacques Schnee just yet; such a weighty decision required more time to think of it, not to mention a couple of second opinions.

She'd been settled into her room for about 20 minutes, her dress draped over the back of a chair when someone knocked on her door.

"Sal-u-tations, Pyrrha Nikos!" an exuberant girl with frizzy red hair and freckles said when she opened the door.

"Oh! Hello, um...Penny, right?" Pyrrha guessed. She'd only met the robot girl twice before: when she'd been rescued from Dr. Nightengale's kidnapping, and at the press conference where she'd reintroduced herself to Atlas. For both of those times, she'd been a bit too preoccupied to formally introduce herself.

Not to mention that, for some reason, she'd always felt strangely apprehensive about speaking to the girl...

"Correct! My name is a Penny Polendina-" She held her hand out. "-would you like to be friends?"

Pyrrha stared down at the proffered hand for a moment. Once again the feeling of apprehension was back, a little voice in the back of her head telling her that there was a reason why Penny wouldn't want to _actually_ be friends with her. Which was preposterous, they'd never really interacted before now, and the smile Penny wore was almost infectious with how energetic and full of life it was. She seemed completely sincere.

In the end, Pyrrha decided to ignore the nagging feelings of baseless doubt and accepted the hand. She was a new person now, and whatever had happened in the past had no bearing on who she chose to befriend now. "Sure, I'd love to be your friend."

"Oh, _sen-sational!_" Penny immediately drew Pyrrha in and wrapped her arms around the taller girl in a bear hug. "I am so glad that you are amenable to being my Friend; now we can perform all manner of Friendship Activities with each other!"

"That's...great," she grunted, unprepared for the sudden embrace. "...would you mind letting me go now? I think I'm losing feeling in my arm…"

"Eep! Sorry…" Penny thankfully let go of her, her arm tingling a bit as her blood began to circulate again. "My apologies, I am not yet used to the physical parameters of my new body just yet," she apologized.

...was that her way of saying she didn't know her own strength?

"Well, no harm done, right?" Pyrrha cracked her back, glad that she'd changed into her pajamas; her new dress might look nice, but it wasn't necessarily the most comfortable material to be in. "What brings you by?"

"Well, I was performing Friendship Activities with Miss Winter while you were attending the political function, and she suggested that I see how you were feeling afterward!" Penny informed her. "And since I wanted to say hello to you anyway, it sounded like an ab-so-lutely _stupendous_ idea!"

"I see. Well, you can inform Miss Winter that I'm feeling a little tired, but otherwise fine." As one of the few non-medical people she'd spent time with, she considered Winter Schnee a good friend, and it warmed her heart a bit that the woman cared about her well-being enough to check up on her like this.

"I will most certainly do that!" Penny announced, though she made no move to leave the threshold of Pyrrha's room.

It was kind of awkward…

"...is there something else you need?" Pyrrha asked after 15 seconds of silence.

"Nope!" she said, popping the "P" sound.

_Ok then…_ "Well, if that's all, then I think I'm going to get some sleep. I'm sure we'll see each other tomorrow."

She could practically see the information clicking into place in Penny's mind.

"_Ohhhh_…I see! Then I will see you tomorrow, Friend Pyrrha." The robot girl gave a quick salute, then skipped off down the hallway.

Pyrrha couldn't help but shake her head and chuckle at android's behavior; it reminded her of a young child, the way she seemed so eager about merely meeting her. It was undeniably endearing.

And some of that beaming joy must phage rubbed off on her since Pyrrha found herself smiling when she tucked herself into bed a few minutes later.

Perhaps it'd be worth spending some more time with the odd girl tomorrow, if only for some levity from the weighty choice she had before her.

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

After breakfast Pyrrha had sought out Penny again, only to learn that the robot girl was off on assignment and most likely wouldn't be back until early evening. A bit disappointing, but understandable; she _was_ a duly appointed "protector of Mantle", after all.

So Pyrrha spent the rest of the morning and afternoon going through what was becoming her new routine: calisthenics, studying social economics, combat training, some more studying, and finally being quizzed on what she'd studied throughout the day. She was informed that this would change once she reached a level good enough for entry into a Huntsman Academy, but for now, this was how her days would go.

"You're definitely improving," Winter Schnee informed her as Pyrrha caught her breath after her spar with the Specialist, "you're almost at the same level as my sister."

Oh. Well, that was certainly good news-

"When she was twelve," the woman finished, "You still have a ways to go before you reach the benchmark for entry into Atlas Academy." Her stoic demeanor only served to add an extra punch to the statement.

"I see," Pyrrha said, still panting lightly. "Well, I suppose I'll have to keep working hard, then." She dabbed her face with a towel, the cloth coming away damp. She could see why people sometimes thought Winter to be callous, given how uncompromising the woman could be, but there was a purpose behind her actions, whether other people realized it or not. "Shall we have one more round?" she asked, grabbing her training weapons from the bench as she stood back up.

"I think not." Winter made a motion for her to be at ease. "As commendable as you drive is, you have put in enough time today already; feel free to relax for the rest of the evening."

Now, _this _was a surprise! She'd fully expected the Schnee woman to take her up on the offer to spar some more...she didn't know where the thought had come from…

"Really?"

"Indeed. You've been doing well these past few days, I'd say a small reward for your efforts is warranted."

Well then...she wasn't going to turn down a free vacation day.

"I think I'd like that. Thank you." She put the training weapons back and grabbed her gym bag, heading for the exit. "Have a good evening, Miss Schnee!" she called back.

Pyrrha assumed Winter must have waved after her since she didn't hear the older woman say anything.

She headed back to her dorm and quickly showered off, then threw on some casual clothes and headed out into Atlas. Neon had mentioned a certain restaurant a few times when then hung out that seemed interesting, so she figured now would be as good a time as any to sample what it had to offer. She waved hello to the students she passed; she'd only met a few of them so far, but they all seemed like genuinely nice people.

The sun was in the process of setting as she made her way out onto the streets, casting long shadows, which gave everything a somewhat melancholy feeling. Almost in stark contrast, the sky was turning shades of pastel pink and orange that looked too perfect to be natural.

She was _extra_ glad Winter let her have the evening to herself now.

She might have even been a bit _too_ enamored with the sunset, since she suddenly collided with another body, thankfully not hard enough to knock either of them over.

"Omygosh, I'm sorry!" she hurriedly apologized, backing up, "I wasn't looking where I was going; I didn't mean to run into you!"

"It's alright," the other figure said, "No harm done, right?"

"Indeed...no harm done…" Once her wits returned Pyrrha actually took note of _who_ she'd collided with: a woman a bit taller than she was, and noticeably older than Winter. Her pale, blonde hair was done up in a short ponytail, and apart from her fairly plain looking attire, she wore a hooded scarf. "Again, I'm sorry…"

The woman put a hand up. "It's fine, don't worry about it." Then she held the hand out. "If you want, you can just call me Robyn."

"Alright, if you insist." Pyrrha shook the proffered hand. "I'm Pyr-"

"Pyrrha Nikos," Robyn interrupted, "Yes, I know. To be perfectly frank, it'd be more surprising if someone _didn't_ know who you were."

...for some reason, that gave her a sense of nostalgia that didn't seem to have a source.

In any case, she'd mull that over later.

"Actually," Robyn said, "I was hoping to run into you sometime. Would you mind if we walked and talked?"

"No, not at all." Pyrrha shook her head, then gestured for the woman to lead the way. "I was actually just on my way to get something to eat."

"...alright, I suppose we can stop there briefly."

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_You are not at all what I was expecting, Pyrrha Nikos,_ Robyn mused to herself as they rode in the Happy Huntresses' van, Fiona was driving. _I can already imagine the shock that would result if people could see you right now…_

Pyrrha Nikos sat across from her, eagerly tucking into a cheeseburger like it was going out of style and looking like she was enjoying every minute of it; a far cry from the normally composed face she normally wore in public.

Granted, she probably shouldn't be surprised at this, but on the other hand, the biggest public figures in Atlas were a career military man and an industrialist, and neither of them seemed like the kind of people who cared about putting on a facade.

"...are you sure you don't want anything?" Pyrrha asked, holding the takeout bag to her, "I don't mind sharing the fries."

"I'm sure." She put a hand up to politely decline the offer. "There's a box of emergency rations if I start feeling peckish."

"Well...if you insist…" The red-headed girl took another bite of her food. "...where are we going, anyway?"

"I had a previous engagement before we ran into each other-" Pyrrha snickered. "-but it's nothing that couldn't easily be merged with our talk. In fact, I think you'd be a big help with it, honestly."

There was a quizzical look on the Invincible Girl's face now. "And that would be…?"

"All in good time," she assured the girl, "But before I reveal that, I have a question for you." She could have employed her Semblance here to ensure that Pyrrha gave her the absolute truth, but ultimately decided against it; the impression she got from Pyrrha Nikos was that she was a person who rarely if ever felt the need to lie. "I understand that there was a fundraiser at Jacques Schnee's home. Did you attend?"

Pyrrha nodded. "I did."

"Alright," Robyn nodded in return, "and what did you do there."

"Well...I gave a speech after I arrived, then I mostly spent the rest of the evening listening to the other guest talk business." She grimaced, "It was more boring than you'd expect."

Oh, she knew; it had been quite some time since Robyn bothered to attend a high society function. She may have found some enjoyment in them once upon a time, but not so much anymore.

"And was one of those people Jacques Schnee? I can already imagine what he would have said to you, so a yes or no will suffice for an answer."

Now one of Pyrrha's eyebrows was raised; she was evidently starting to have some questions of her own. That was a good sign.

"Yes," she answered, somewhat guardedly, "I believe he was trying to secure my vote for the Council election."

Robyn nodded. "Yes, I figured as much. ...I have one more question for you, Pyrrha, then you can ask me whatever you want." She leaned forward a bit. "What is your impression of Mantle?"

Pyrrha didn't answer immediately, her brow furrowed in thought.

"...I'm not really sure. The only time I've ever been was when I was kidnapped."

"By that doctor woman. Yes, I remember hearing that she'd been caught in the act. But that aside, you don't have any thoughts on it?"

Pyrrha shook her head. "Nothing in particular, anyway."

"Then I think this little excursion will be quite illuminating for you."

Before Pyrrha could say anything, Fiona chimed up from the driver's seat "We're just about there."

"Alright." After giving the sheep Faunus a quick nod, she turned her attention back to her guest. "I suppose you're wondering about the boxes," she said, gesturing to the short stack of unmarked, cardboard boxes stacked against the partition between the back of the van and the front.

Pyrrha appeared to look them over for a moment. "That _did_ cross my mind…"

"Well, they're food," she said simply, the van pulling to a gentle stop, "mostly canned and nonperishable."

The quizzical look Pyrrha had before returned. "...are you running a delivery service?"

"Sort of...it's not official or anything, and I'm probably losing money on this, technically, but...well, you'll see in a moment."

The rear doors were then opened, allowing both passengers to disembark. (She offered Pyrrha a hand down; the first step was a doozy.) As expected, May and Joanna were waiting for them.

"You're just in time," the turquoise haired woman remarked, audibly breathing a sigh of relief, "everyone looks like they're about to get rowdy, and the last thing we need is someone calling in a noise complaint."

"Fi, why do you always get to hang with the Boss, huh?" the other woman moaned, "Who not let one of us do the easy job once in a while?"

Fiona pouted, "It's not _my_ fault I always draw the short straw…"

"Ladies!" Robyn called, getting their attention. "Why don't we get started bringing the food inside? You can argue about the division of labor after everyone's fed." All three young women sighed, then set about unloading the boxes from the van and bringing it inside a nearby building. She motioned for Pyrrha to follow her. "Come with me, there's something I want to show you."

As they made their way into the building both women were almost immediately swarmed by a group of children, all younger than ten years of age. Understandably, Pyrrha was a bit shocked by this, judging by the small gasp she gave when the kids gathered around her legs.

"U-um...h-hello…?" the redhead stuttered, unable to decide which child to focus on first. Their simultaneous clamoring probably didn't help matters for her, either.

"Hey!" Robyn barked, getting the kids' attention, "Remember your manners or that box of desserts I promised last time suddenly got lost during transport."

This got their attention, and they all backed up and stood in a loose line.

"There we go,~" she said, adopting a softer tone. "Now, you probably already recognize her but this is Miss Pyrrha Nikos. I'd appreciate it if you helped her feel welcome tonight, OK?"

The children nodded, giving a chorus of "Hello"s and "Hi, Miss Nikos"s to the redhead.

"Hello again!~" she responded, waving back. Then she turned to Robyn, "May I ask what this place is now?"

"Somewhere where people who are down on their luck can live," she answered as the adults began to file in to collect their kids. "All the food on the truck was graciously donated by the people of Mantle who care about their fellow man." She rubbed one of the kid's heads as she walked passed. "Follow me, I'll introduce you to the rest of the community."

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

"This was...quite illuminating," Pyrrha said as she and Robyn rode back to Atlas Academy. "They were all very lovely people."

"They are, aren't they?" Robyn said. She leaned back in her seat, arms folded. "It's just a shame I can't do more than that to help them…"

"...how so? I can contribute what I can-"

"And I appreciate that," the woman interrupted, "I really do...but that wasn't quite what I meant." She readjusted her posture, sitting up straighter. "You still don't recognize me, do you?" To that, Pyrrha shook her head. "...my full name is Robyn Hill. I haven't made it a secret that I'm making a bid for a seat on the Council, though I suppose you wouldn't really know that unless you were specifically following election coverage."

"Oh, I see...I can't say I really have. I'm sorry…"

"It's fine. Anyway, the reason I brought you out to that communal home wasn't just to treat you to a home-cooked dinner; there are more people like that throughout Mantle, people who can't make ends meet for one reason or another, and the 1% up in Atlas aren't helping matters. They're perfectly happy to hoard supplies, and spend vast amounts of Lien on frivolous things, all but ignoring the plight of their fellow man while they revel in luxury. And frankly, the Atlas Council is perfectly willing to turn a blind eye to this as well."

Pyrrha nodded. "So you're hoping that you can change their minds if you're part of the Council," she reasoned.

"More or less," she confirmed, "And it'd go a long way to making that a reality if you could say that you're voting for me when the polls open up."

"...that sounds like what Mr. Schnee told me last night."

"I'm sure it does. But I can promise you that whatever he promised, he doesn't mean a word of it. He's probably just doing it for prestige, or political power, or something along those lines; I sincerely doubt he actually cares about doing good with the Council seat." She reached out and took hold of Pyrhra's hands. "I know I have no right to ask you this, but please...think about everyone in Mantle who keeps getting passed over when the bottom line is being discussed."

_to be continued..._

_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

_Robyn Hill, everyone. Not to mention a bit more of Penny and Winter to boot, which is always fun for me to write. So with two of the three Atlas political candidates down, all that's left is for Ironwood to give Pyrrha his own pitch, which will be happening next time. _

_For now, though, I'll be working on the next bit of Burger Mistresses, so be on the lookout for that one soon. Drop a Follow if you want to keep up with Pyrrha's second chance at life as it goes on, leave a review to let me know what you think of this story so far, and as always, stay safe, and be Excellent to each other._


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